Ok, just when I thought Virginia was messed up....

Apparently, 26 states and the District of Columbia allow FIRST COUSINS to marry each other.
Maybe old men and teens making out on the metro is not the worst society has to offer. DCist.com even informed me there is a website advocating cousin lovin'
www.cousincouples.com

Virginia is for Lovers (even unsavory ones)...

So, last night circa 10 pm I was happily riding the metro home. MYOBing. Listening to my ipod. (which has developed an obsession with Queen Live at Wembley '86 which I can't seem to stop) In the seat infront of me is an older man wearing a beret and a gray peacoat, who has is arm around a guy who I had naively assumed was perhaps his grandson. Until the clarendon station- when he went in for the kill. The creepy old man did what I will heretofore refer to as "pulling an Ian McKellen" Ladies and Germs, I have never been more horrified in my life. These two men (between whom there was atleast 40 years) proceeded to search for each others tonsils and give each other a tounge bath for 6 stops. Thank god they had to change trains. What is WRONG with people? PDA is not really ever bueno in my book, esp. when one of the parties involved is probably not old enough to drink and the other remembers the invention of the horseless carriage. Eeeeeppp. Still mortified. Also it's Cherry Blossom season which means I had to serve food to families in matching sweatshirts and have people ask me where the Captiol was. (The answer to which is LOOK OUT THE WINDOW) double sigh. however, I did get to finally break out the flip flops today, and for that I am greatful -Lethal.

CARBIVORE

Can someone PLEASE put that on a neighborhoodie posthaste. Mara is a genious when describing me, isnt she??? We also had the following conversation over IM re: the Wendy's finger fiasco of '05 :
L: (reads headline of article) OH. MY. GOD. that is HORRID.
M: yes, I know
L: okay, well no desire to eat at wendys. ever. again.
M: I would hope so
L :Do you know how may chicken nuggets i've consumed from wendy's in my lifetime?
M: you mean... chicken FINGERS!!!!
SIGH.
Anyway, I had a lovely Easter weekend with the fam which included a trip to the spy museum, (where I took the code name Angeline Falcone and travelled to Vietnam) forcing my father to rot in Banana Republic for hours, coming thisclose to convincing my mother to go on a pub crawl where everyone was wearing bunny ears and having a lavish Easter dinner at table with the Pope's head on it @ the Buca Di Beppo. I hope the Easter bunny was good to you all. By the way, If eating chocolate eggs at 10:01 in the morning is wrong- then I don't want to be right.

Oh, Sailor

Hey everybody... I know it's been FOREVER since I done written anything, but dang it if I didn't get sick!! As someone who's as prone to lung ailments as he is to correct opinions, I should have realized that I'd get sick this season. Oh well. Gross. But now I'm well and back!!

So what's new, you ask? Not much. Easter weekend was fine. I saw ritzy, Jewish Long Island neighborhoods from high speeds in Mike's car, including a house that had no front. If you can imagine that. It was open like a dollhouse. But, like, it wasn't an accident. Like, people were having a party. WEIRD. The North Shore is wrong.

Also, I got my tendrils on Fiona Apple's new (and scandalously unreleased) CD, "Extraordinary Machine," and it's SOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOOD. I don't know why it's not being released, but check out www.freefiona.com for more info. Also, someone buy me one of those shirts.

Quote of the day:
"That's like asking a mother to choose which child is her favorite!"
-- Ellen DeGeneres's initial response when InStyle mag asked her toname her favorite cocktail.

So that's that, everybody. Have a good day! I'm off to Vegas on Saturday.... WHEEEEEEEEE

ME :-)

"If Osama was a piece of ass then Clinton would have nailed him"

I love bumper stickers sometimes. I saw that one on the way to brunch on sunday-Where I had the most delightful waffle.I love Belgian restaurants too. Waffles and Frites. What more could a girl ask for? Anyway, I had a lovely weekend filled with alcohol, movies about parrots, and amazing lesbian minstrels. Those Indigo girls are amazing live. I saw them years ago, but I'd forgotten. Also, I loved the fact that they are willing to change their setlist based on audience demand. I also don't quite know how to describe "The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill" except to say that Migo sure can dance! How does one describe the life story of a flock of birds? Apparently, by shooting grainy footage and using music that sounds as though it were composed for "Three's Company". Whatevs. It was interesting. Lastly, I would like to give a BIG shout-out to my girl Siobhan for getting a job taking care of sick kids which will pay her more money than the entire staff of Kevin and Leigh's sexy-ass blog will see for quite some time.
I'll leave you with a quote from my dear friend heather, explressing her dismay about being set-up by a friend:
"I mean this guy was all unshaved and unkept...he was like the unibomber"

A holiday deserving of two posts!

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig

Dia dhuit, readers! As usual, I am very excited about the one day I can bust out my ability to count to ten and greet people in Gaelic, Clearly, I'm also excited at the thought of carbombs and the possability of an O'Danny Boy sing along. At this special time of year, I like to share my favorite anticdote from Ireland. I was sitting in a pub in Dingle, (home of world famous Fungi the Dolphin) debating whether or not to charge something to my credit card, when the old man on the stool next to me turns to me and says "I don't know what yer worryin' about- there's a reason they don't put pockets in coffins!" I heart Ireland so bad. Éireann go Brách (or Erin go Braugh) Maybe in Ireland this isn't the quite the drinkfest it is here in America. Hey- St. Patrick isn't even from Ireland! He just came over to like, drive out the snakes and convert the heathens. Doesn't matter. This is great excuse to be eat drink and be merry. If anyone can't see that, I'll beat them with a Shillelagh! Okay, I'm all out of useable Irish vocab... I'd like to leave you with a toast:

Sláinte agus saol agat. Bean ar do mhian agat. Leanbh gach blian agat. Agus bás n Éireann.

Health and life to you. The Woman of your choice for you. A child every year for you. And may you die in Ireland!

Slainte!-O'Leathal

IRELAND

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY

...from Kevin & Leigh

So the following things have happened today, and/or need to be discussed immediatey:

1) I rode the subway with Kristin Guendjoian this morning.

2) Katie McGrath just told me a story about lesbian-on-lesbian oral sex that resulted in blood and disfigurement.

3) Constantine from "American Idol" cast a serious specter over Ladystein last night. BOO!

4) I honestly, HONESTLY fucking love St. Patrick's Day. So a happy one to all!!

KEVIN :-)

Shame on you, Lifetime!

Ok. So last night, I'm doing my exercises for my broken back, watching some newlyweds. Along comes a preview for a new production from Lifetime. Now, like all good TV watchers I support cheesy melodrama on occasion. In the words of my mother "Oh my god, I totally got sucked in to a lifetime movie!" Anyway, usually I'm all for Meredith Baxter-Birney/Anne Jillian/Kelli Martin's battle to overcome cancer/kiddnapping/rape/a cheating spouse/poverty/ general woman-in-peril-ness. However- even I have my breaking points with recycled plot lines. This movie starred Jane Krawkowski and someone I did not recognize as a mother and daughter battling to overcome the issue of teen pregnancy. and it was called "Mom at Sixteen" Now, Televison for Women may have pulled the wool over some eyes, but not mine! Hello! This story is sounding eerily like the Park Overall/Kirsten Dunst vehicle "Fifteen and Pregnant". The titles are even similar! Not cool. Is Lifetime suddenly in the business of creating homages to itself?!? Now, you might be thinking I am pathetic for making this connection. I swear I don't watch that much lifetime... besides...The Managarock/Wilkinsex household TOTALLY owns "Fifteen and Pregnant" on DVD. I had to bring it up.

the name that dare not be spoken

So I'm talking with a certain friend last night- A friend who might have recently come back from Vegas, let's say- and he was concerned that when his name is Googled, (or Gizoogled, if you're feeling hip), that our oh-so-incriminating blog turns up. So all traces of his name have been removed, even if his photos remain. Just wanted to explain the sudden loss of Mr. You Know Who.

I wrote the best flippin' blog yesterday, but it didn't save for some terrible TERRIBLE reason. It was basically to highlight this wonderful website, which lists Catholic saints and their special powers:
http://www.catholic-forum.com/saints/patron00.htm
Catholicism is SO CREEPY. Here are some favorite saint categories (to be fair, as compiled by Kate Wilkinsex):
- against scruf
- against dying alone
- children, disappointing
- circus workers
- Communism, those who fight against it
- dauphins of France
- dog fanciers
- Equatorial Guinea
- fruit dealers
- fiddle players
- Gap (do they mean THE gap?)
- hangovers
- hatters
- iron mongers
- inter-racial justice
- jaundice
- knife sharpeners
- lame people
- lunatics
- minstrels
- nettle rash, against
- outbuildings
- people who are unattractive
- pewterers
- prostitutes, reformed
- sheds
- spasms
- spouse abuse, against (physical)
- spouse abuse, against (verbal)
- unmarried girls
- vocations, lost
- vertigo, against
- writers for television
- yachtsmen

So did everyone hear that Salma Hayek is going to gain weight and ugly up to play a serial killer?? I couldn't be more mortified. Honestly, this OBSESSION with "rewarding the deglamorized and the victimized, but only when played by beautiful, non-victims" (thanks again Kate) is MADDENING, and it will so plainly lead to the death of American screen acting. One day, when future scholars are floating around in their space-cademy, and they're writing their hyper-theses about the decline of American culture, it will all come back to the confluence of Halle Berry and Charlize Theron. DISGRACEFUL!!

I'm gonna run now. See ya later!!

KEVIN :-)

Blogging is a GREAT way to avoid writing lesson plans...

Ok, So Kevin gets Dan Cassaro and Steve Chang (whom I'm sure were perfectly lovely individuals) and who do Mike and I get? Yet another run-in with Sean Murphy. Now, Ive seen this kid a good 6 times since moving to DC, once with Mike in tow.( I should qualify this by saying we were at the Irish Times circa 2:45 am, which clearly means everyone involved was drunky McDrunkerson and cranky due to lack of available pancakes)
Me: Hi Sean!
Sean: MARY KATE! WHAT IS UP? DO YOU LIVE HERE???
Mike: Uh, Hey
Sean : BUUUUDDYY!!! (slaps Mike in the left ear) MAN!
at this point, we ran in fear. I should mention however that prior to seeing the ghost of 4th grade, it had been a lovely evening filled vodka, pool, and a rare and welcome appearance by the gayrab's roomate. (who's off to save the world from corporate greed in PERU this summer! Yay Nate!) In other news, I realize that many of the important men in my life are gay. Mara may have convinced me to go to an Indigo Girls concert next week, and I might have just secured seats to see Margaret Cho. Please, I even tried to marry one in Vegas. However- I DO NOT need mail from gay dating services!!!! "Options" jsut sent me a questionaire to "find that special someone." It claimed to know I "needed help on the alternative dating scene" which includes a personality profile with statements such as "I dress to please myself and not others", "I am not publicly affectionate" and "I find cultual events boring"Um, If I were a lesbian I would clearly be able to get a date without expressing my preferences for designer jeans. Damn you Human Rights Campagin for selling your mailing list...

Impromptu Reunions are the flippin' sweetest kind

So I saw Dan Cassaro and Steve Chang at a bar last night. It was so totally weird. They're pretty much awesome, though. Hugging Dan Cassaro was like hugging the past, but the past had really hipster, indie rock hair.

OK, back to review writing and Napoleon Dynamite on DVD.

I got the following email from Joe Rockonis this morning....

I decided it was time to repay you for all the free theater and good advice you give me, so I just subscribed you to the official Jean Smart e-news mailing list.I'll speak to you tomorrow.-Joe

Wow. Joe. I mean.... AWESOME.

OK, bye. "Hey Napoleon, gimme some of your tots."

KEVIN :-)

MMM. Eiffel Tower 

WHY AREN'T WE MARRIED?!? 

lawyer or court jester? 

um... 

mike and his BFF the nickel slot 

luxor express train to drunkenss 

Ok, so when I said "lion" and "suspension bridge" I was SO serious 

Dancin' like I mean it 

drunk on a tram to the luxor... 

studio 54 + jagermeister = 

mike's ass LOVES Las Vegas. alot.  

CA$H MONEY 

Blogging Emergency!

I SO don't want to upstage Leigh-thal's EPIC post below (uumm... Tom Jones is tangerine?? WHAT??), but I do want to share this:

We're not alone in the blogging neighborhood.
http://onceadored.blogspot.com/

Oh yes. Rosie O'Donnell has a blog. One that's written entirely in beat poetry. God DAMN.

"Well, anyone would look skinny next to a Lion..."

88 HOURS IN VEGAS WITH LETHAL AND THE GAYRAB

TAKE A DEEP BREATH KIDS...HERE IT COMES:

1. Arrive at airport early to find flight delayed and no gay magazines featuring The Rock available for purchase. Resolve to have a drink in airport bar.
2. Board plane to find that it serves Pepsi products and offers no inflight entertainment. Inflight entertainment becomes stories of Gayrab's father running away from hellbent camels in his youth in Morocco.
3. Cab line in Vegas approx. 4 years long. Arrive at The Excalibur at approach. 4am DC time. See giant purple dragon and have hotel personnel call you "lord and Lady" feel the tiredness melt away. We love the Excalibur!
4. See room, complete with view of parking lot, bloodstained carpet and non-draining shower. We loathe the Excalibur!
5. Ignore accommodations by becoming acquainted with slot machines. This will be the beginning of a whirlwind friendship (a friendship which basically ends with the friend stealing your wallet and calling you stupid, but it was fun while it lasted...) Eat breakfast at the Sherwood Forrest Cafe before retiring circa 7am
6. Arise! Vegas awaits! Enter NewYork NewYork to discover that tavern on the green has become a place for high stakes slots, the only subway is at Christopher street, and somehow Broadway intersects with not only west end Ave, but the Brooklyn bridge as well. Discover that Coyote Ugly offers 15 kinds of frozen alcohol 24 hours a day. (even if it is served by the most busted looking woman alive. I'm not kidding. Small children would run in fear)
7. Discover; at the exact same time; the availability of souvenir beverage cups filled with aforementioned frozen alcoholic beverages, and the fact that Vegas has no open container laws. This means one can stroll from The Paris to Ceasers whilst sipping strawberry Margarita out of a giant plastic Eiffel tower. Wow. (This is the part where I'd like to note that mike talked me out of going to Harrah's to purchuse a soviener glass that was purple, 4 feet long, and got strapped to your back like a cross-bow. sad) Total sovinier cups purchused: 5 total frozen beverages consumed: sometwhere in the neighborhood of 18, not counting the dollar margaritas at the Boardwalk
8. Introduce Mike to the buffet concept at The Aladdin. (which says "In the Sea of Buffets, we're the Killer Whale") Mike eats his weight in King Crab while leigh tries to climb out from under a vat of chocolate mousse.
9. Studio 54. dance dance revolution ensues. The Gayrab and Lethal tear the shit out of the dancefloor for 3 hours; fueled by jello shots and jagermeister.
10. Wander into photbooth. makeout for the camera. stumble to foodcourt. eat. stumble home. mike finds second food court. eat more. Return to new room with view of strip and no bodily fluid stains!
11. Wake with a fervor in order to have champagne brunch. Line for champagne brunch is nearly 2 hours. Eat crepes and drink giant rootbeer in defeat. sulk and drink frozen alcohol.
12. Realize it is 70 degrees and sunny. take frozen alcohol outside and stroll to Venice; where a story involving long-distance romance is concocted for romantic gondola ride. Kiss under a bridge. Hott.
13. Vegas is beginning to catch up with us...we're fading...only an 8 dollar bottle of champagne and some scary salsa music can revive us. take tram to luxor where the slot machines are COLD. Continue on to Mandalay Bay where they are slightly warmer...
14. Is it Monday? wow. Is it also 75 degrees out? Crazy! go to MGM where Lions are sleeping on plastic suspension bridges. Have photo taken with baby Lion. Leigh can now not stop saying "but mike, we touched a baby lions bum!"
15. Sip Coronas while lounging in the sunshine of the Excalibur pool area. Solice is often innterupted by announcement that lords and ladies are needed in poker room for no-limit hold 'em.
16. Dine in splendor at the Belliagio. View famous fountain. Maybe tear up a little...
17. TOM JONES.WOW. The man is so Tangerine that the whites of his eyes glow. Women throw underwear. A man from Poland throws a tie while screaming "greatest singer in the world!!!" Tom covers prince and tells us he jsut cut an album with Wyclef. He may be swaeting like robin williams during an HBO special, but the man is giving 200%. Trying to figure out how a man old enough tobe my grandfather can oooze sex. wrong. v. wrong.
18. High on Tom fumes, we return to the Bellagio and gamble away the contents of our wallets on high stakes war. drink drink drink. strut on the strip in our matching orange ensembles. At one point a 15 year old baby momma yells "slut," some frat boys whistle, and a man with 4 teeth and a mullet tells us we are "lookin'good. stylin!" Mission accomplished.
19. Wake up. check out. eat lunch outdoors in the sunshine and visit the slots one last time. discover flight is delayed...
20. Board plane in a huff. Then discover we are flying over Grand Canyon. Beautiful!
21. VIVA LAS VEGAS

"Our daughter has become my accomplice in infanticide."

I just typed the above line to Katie McGrath. AHH, ANOTHER DAY IN THE OFFICE.

So Mike and Leigh are back from The Vegas, Joe's in the midst of career turmoil, Kate's rehearsin' like a Tazmanian Devil, and what am I doing? Where's mine? Well, I'll tell you. I've discovered my life's mission (like a ye olde crusade)... To make people stop being mean to Amy Fisher.

OK, so I'm eating my Cheerios, fixin my hair and getting ready for work this morning, and what's on TV, but "Oprah After The Show" on Oxygen. She's interviewing Amy Fisher, and OH MY GOD, I didn't realize that Oprah's audience had such cruelty towards Amy Fisher!! Like... One woman stood up, and she said, "I don't believe that you were some innocent creature that was tricked into letting this man into your bedroom. This was your deliberate choice." And then even Oprah herself got pissy at Amy Fisher when she said that there were parts of the shooting that she doesn't remember. Oprah was like, "You wrote a book, and now you don't want to talk about it? NO FREE CAR FOR YOU." OK, so the last part is a contruct of my imagination, I'm pretty sure. But still... Do people not see Joey Butafuocco as the bad guy anymore? I guess that this stopped being a case of this bad guy victimizing an impressionable young girl, who in turn lashes out to vitimize someone else? Fucking Oprah. Joe's right. She IS a bad person.

I want to talk about "The Starlet," but I don't think I have the strength right now.

KEVIN :-)

A tiny little blog

Hey all- So I didn't have anything to say all weekend, and I kinda still don't, but my coworker Sara Fitzawesome will totally beat me up if I don't write anything, so....

My co-blogger Leigh is in Vegas this weekend, with our mutual favorite gay arabian. I've received multiple damning phonecalls, including a voicemail that went like this, "Kevin. It's Mike. I'm standing in Studio 54 and the MGM Grand, and Kevin... The bathrooms! OK, goodbye." Clearly, I can't wait to go to the Vegas myself (countdown- 3 weeks).

Some other random items:
(1) I think I might hate Robin Williams. Which is odd, because I love Mrs. Doubtfire. Not the movie, the woman.
(2) Last night, were anyone's eyes watching "Their Eyes Were Watching God"? Mine were watching "All Shook Up," which I'm completely frickin' obsessed with, so I had to Tivo it. Is it worth my time? I bet not, right? Like, Halle Berry... For serious? I dunno.
(3) Kate and I finally got high speed internet this week, which has resulted in me downloading EPIC amount of music, including Elton John and Guns & Roses singing "Bohemian Rhapsody" and some weird chick who was billed as Bjork (but is assuredly NOT Bjork) singing "Leaving on a Jetplane." Coolness personified, yo.

OK Later.

KEVIN :-)

I'm pretty sure TV- as an art form- has jumped the shark

So Kate and I are watching a fresh Gilmore last night (which was SO great, SO amazing..... ugh, just loved it), and this ad came on for this new WB reality series called "The Starlet." Essentially, it's a hunt for the next great movie star. So American Idol has Paula Abdul, Project Runway has Heidi Klum... For each industry the reality show relates to, they find a washed up former star of that medium. So who's hosting "The Starlet." FAYE FUCKIN' DUNAWAY. Oscar-winner Faye Dunaway (Bonnie herself!!) is hosting a reality show on the WB. Moreover, she looks like ten miles of bad road in Hell. She's worn down like an old pair of britches, and in the clip they showed, she seems barely able to stay awake, she appears to leering at the young girl from over a gin bottle, and she says (in FULL Mommie Dearest), "You're a STAR!" It was arresting and life-shortening. I can't deal with it.

I'm so happy to be sipping coffee right now, can I just say? MMMMMMMM.

I'd like to shout-out to my Gay-rab for pointing me in the direction of Dusty Springfield's "In The Middle of Nowhere," shortly to be a karaoke insitution.

Happy Mid-Week.

KEVIN :-)

Spirit in the Sky

Signs your flight is not going to go well:
1. There are approx. 4 people in LaGuardia Airport
2. The 6, 8, and 9 o clock shuttles are cancelled, but somehow the 7 is taking off (circa 8:45)
3. The Plane you have boarded requires 25 minutes of de-icing.
4. The captain tells you to expect a bumpy flight "Turbulence is certain"
5. the flight attendants choose not to serve beverages due to aforementioned turbulence
6. the captian comes over the PA and says "folks, you really need to buckle up" again, due to aforementioned turbulence
7. THE OXYGEN MASKS DROP. (ok, so this was an accident, but still. can you imagine???)
I am good little flyer, but I was so nervous! Even the soothing Irishness of Damien Rice had no calming effect. By the time point 6 occurred, I was griping the arm rests and attempting to think of prayers. In my twisted mind, the only things I could think of were Danny Boy and the Stanford Magnificat & Nunc Dimittis in C. I figured god would get that the synapses were a little screwy at 10,000 feet. I made it home alive, just intime to frolic in the snow with Mike, my roomies and a flask full of peppermint schnapps. And all was right in the world.
Also, Marymount decided to open today (boo!) My professor however, lives out in nowhere Virginia and cancelled class! (yay!) Hence, I'm going back to sleep, ttfn. -Leigh, thankful to be on solid earth.