I'm Black and I'm Proud

Hey everybody! Hope all is well. Are your holiday seasons going smoothly? That's good to hear. Mine? Yeah, it's been relatively hopping, I must say, with all good things. Thanks for showing interest in my life and plans. Readers (of which there are none at this point), you are very kind. And sexy. Did you get a haircut? It suits you.

Anyway, I haven't posted anything since the blog's been back, which is in no uncertain terms totally cunty of me. I'm sorry. This is a slow week at work- as a timekiller, I've increased my coffee intake to 6-7 cups a day- so I should have posted stuff earlier, but truth be told, it's really tricky at work. This computer doesn't allow any pop-ups, so I can't add photos or links or anything. But I've decided that you can all just make do with my beautiful, insightful words. Pictures are for the weak, am I right? (No.) YAY!

Anyway, here are some topics that have been crowding up my ol' brainbox since I last posted, which was, I believe, Spring of 1822. No, really. My last post was all about whaling and "the Colorado Territory." I checked.

Anyway.

THE DEATH OF JAMES BROWN
I dearly loved James Brown, as many people know. He has a greasy face, laughable hair, and a constant, pathological wiggle, so clearly Little Boy Kevin fell deeply in love. (This explains so much about who I choose to surround myself with- I'm looking at you, Roommate.) Also, James Brown had been on mind a lot this month, because (a) I'd bought my friend Joe a James Brown t-shirt for Christmas (which I hope he now appreciates even more, since I'm 85% sure that the t-shirt is cursed and actually caused his death- Curse shirts make killer pressies!!), and (b) Eddie Murphy is basically playing him in the wonderful, excellent, perfect Dreamgirls. Basically, James Brown taught me to love high-pitched yelps of manly swagger. I'm eternally grateful.

But his death has raised a few points of interest:

1. James Brown only won three Grammys. "What?! They must mean TWENTY-three Grammys, right?! Kevin, you're crazy!" (That was my impression of y'all. I scarcely do you justice, and I make you sound more than a little like Edith Bunker.) Well, no. If I'm lying, I'm dying. James Brown only won three Grammys, and one of them was a Lifetime Acheivement kinda thing, so only two Grammys in competitive categories. One was for "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag" (YES!! MY FAVE!!) and then other one I can't recall. This make me sad, though. If Ray Charles can win between 15 and 9,000 posthumous awards, can't my beloved JB??

2. Spike Lee wants to direct a James Brown biopic. Now, I dearly DEARLY love and respect Spike Lee, but is he fucking basting my ham with this shit?? NO. Not every famous person deserves a biopic. Unless Sofia Coppola is directing it. Because biopics are lame and formulaic. A famous person has a hardscrabble childhood. Some youthful tragedy marks them for life. (PS- People are complex and reducing them to be defined by a single event in some cases 30 years or more in the past is just fucking weird.) They rise. They do drugs. (Don't!) They fall. They rise again. There's a long-suffering wife somewhere in the story. Blah-fucking-blah. There are planned films covering JB, Freddie Mercury, and even Dolly Parton. This is stupid. Stop it. I feel about biopics the way people feel about jukebox musicals.

3. I just adore the concept of "lying in state at the Apollo Theatre." In related news, I'm going to start calling Sex With Kevin "lying in state at the Apollo Theatre." Ha ha. That makes me laugh so hard. Anyway. I want to lie in state at Dollywood, between the Chasing Rainbows Museum and the bald eagle sanctuary. And then cremated. And for my funeral, I was y'all to play the entirety of Dusty In Memphis. [Note: None of this is a lie.]

DREAMGIRLS
Oh my fucking jesus christ on a lord preserve me. I cannot tell you how into this fucking movie I am. No matter how good people tell you it is, it's better. I've heard a lot of complaints about the pacing, but I really think that the pacing is the movie's biggest strength. It's 100% dead-ahead, and if you're not with them, you get left behind. If the movie can be summed up in a single shot, it'd be in the first five or so minutes, right before the Dreamettes go on to sing "Move," Beyonce and Anika (I think it's them) join hands, and Bill Condon (who cements himself as a god in my universe) keeps SUCH a tight shot on their joined hands. It's a split second and then they're off. Fucking magic. ALSO, FUCKING MAGIC- The girl who plays Magic (Effie's daughter) came into the audience of the Ziegfeld Theatre and pulled tears out of my eyes with little meathooks. Seriously. My eyes were sore from crying by the end. Go. Just go. It's magniffy. All you have to do is dream.

I WANT TO GET MARRIED
I think I'll marry the next guy who makes out with me. I need to start having babies. I've decided on three kids- two girls and a boy. In the following order: Girl, Boy, Girl. Punch Caroline, Parton Richard, and Ramona Mae. I'd been considering the name Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt, but I hear same cockasses took it. Whores. Moving on.

SPRING AWAKENING
Now, OK. It's not, like... OK. It's not terrible, but.... It's just not, you know, successful. OK. I mean, OK. I'll try to be coherent. (Which makes one of us, Spring Awakening! Zing!) I am, and always have been, a fan of stylization and artful pretension. Let's use Marie Antoinette as a pretty relevent example- With that movie, Sofia Coppola makes stylized choices (contemporary music, much like Spring Awakening) with the goal of giving a modern audience a direct line to the main character's inner life. Basically, because of this artistic choice, we get to better know the protagonist. Now, it seems to me that while Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater have some broad, general overarching ideas about what the want to say about sex and teenage angst, they have absolutely no idea what they want to say about any of these characters as people. None of them are afforded personalities or indivdual voices- Is Duncan Sheik, by having every character sing in the same numbing style (AKA, his), trying to say that being a teenager is a uniform, invariable experience? If he is, not only is that a genuinely odd choice as far as crafting a piece of theatre goes, but it's kind of factually... wrong. Yes, I did like that the teenage characters sang unconventional music, but (a) Duncan Sheik's music is kind of 'young-people rock' for old people, and (b) It's not enough to float a show on.

MEDIUM ICED COFFEE (MILK & TWO SUGARS) FROM DUNKIN DONUTS
Love it.

DRINKING IN PENN STATION
Love it.

...

Just kidding, guys. I have more to say than that. My friend Joe recently moved to 34th Street (I know, I don't get it either), and the coolest thing about this turn of events has been the realization that Penn Station bars are Joe's "neighborhood watering holes." Now, Traxxxxx (I forget how many X's) is a pretty well-known seafood bar in Penn, but I'd never been there for some reason. LOVE IT! I'm kind of dickmatized by the constant parade of bridge & tunnel characters that goes by- It's like home, you know? Also, I think that I truly, unironically love Long Islanders. They're a pretty salty, hilarious bunch. New Jerseyites, however, are a far more mixed bag. They vary from "Hey, how ya doin', kid? Lemme buy ya a drink" to "Hey, how ya doin', kid? C'mere, I need to tell ya a story... [cutting my face with a razor]" Yikes, right? I need to drag Joe to 'The Kabooz' (Yes, that's how it's spelled) on Penn's Jersey level as part of my scheme to get Joe an over-40 girlfriend. Seriously, it's a total cougar bar. I love it. And I look forward to many more boozy nights in the Greater Herald Square Business District to come.

I cannot believe that I've written so much. I'm totes sorry. This is what happens when I don't do blog stuff for (2006-1822= 184) 184 years- It all just kind of gushes forth.

Time to go. My friend Katie is bringing me more coffee. God, she's fucking classy.
KEVIN.

SEASON'S GREETINGS

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
XOXO
KEVIN & LEIGH

SALUTATIONS!

"That's my fancy way of saying hello!"

So, I said I wasn't going to- but I did. Last night I saw the new movie version of Charlotte's Web. I wasn't expecting much. I figured they would change it; ruin it. (See: How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Jim Carrey.) We all grew up loving the 1973 cartoon version. (A Fair...is a veritble Smorgesboard; orgesboard; orgesboard etc) I mean really, who needs Oprah we have Agnes Moorehead?!? I just knew Julia Roberts' voice wasn't right. Dakota Fanning would clearly be all wrong; and there would no songs! Kids: I stand corrected. I fully admit it, here on the blog: I loved it. It was so cute. It was completely faithful to the book. The piglet was adorable. Steve Buscemi made a great Templeton the rat. Julia Roberts was really quite good. Dakota Fanning was tolerable; heck; even the presence of Oprah couldn't tear this one down! And yes...when Charlotte died; after writing "HUMBLE" in the web...I totally cried. Go Ahead. Judge me.
-Leighthal

I'M BRINGING SEXY BACK

(To the Internet.)

KEVIN AND LEIGH'S SEXY-ASS BLOG IS BACK!

I know, I know. We've been gone for ages. Last time you heard from us we were excited about Halloween. We've neglected the blog. We're sorry. We'll have some sort of re-commitment ceremony. We promise.

I'm really sorry kids. I never meant to let the blog fall by the wayside. It took the tenacity of one Katherine McGrath to bring the blog back from the grave. (Well, McGrath; and The Lobsterita. But mostly Katie McGrath; for sure.)
I won't even attempt to discuss all thats happened since last we blogged; instead I'll leave with a few choice photos from the HO-HO-HO DOWN 2006:
Kevin and Kate, ever the gracious Hosts.

Kate shows the Pinata who's the boss.

McGrath. Saver of Blogs. Ace Photographer.
(see glowing couch photo above)

Kevin "Steps into Christmas" and takes hostages.


Joe and I know how to belt out a christmas carol. (Especially after a visit to TRACKS)

I'm a classy honey kissy huggy lovey dovey ghetto princess

Greetings dear readers.
I know it's been awhile, but I just wanted to take a moment give you some words of advice:
please go purchase "Tah Dah!" the new album by the Scissor Sisters.
It is amazing! Who knew 1973 and 2006 could be such good friends?
While you're at, pop the first cd in and take a listen to the lyrics of "Filthy/Gorgeous"
wow.
I don't understand why America refuses to throw more support behind this band.
They are superstars in Europe.
(reason number 1,674 why Europe is smarter than the United States)
Good thing I'm thing headed to London in 4 days!!!
-LeLethal

Why is the oxygen network trying to make me cry?

So, I get home from class.
I'm tired.
I'm hoping to find some sort of cheesy movie (i.e. The Cutting Edge, Muriel's Wedding, Center Stage) which The Oxygen Network usually provides.
but no.
I get the one-two emotional punch of a double feature of Before Women had Wings and The Accused.
Child Abuse and Rape. oy.
Some of you might not be aware of the former feature, a decade old television movie featuring Ellen Barkin, (who I think is beyond underrated. See: Drop Dead Gorgeous) with Julia Stiles and Tina Majorino as the daughters she abuses; (with a hairbrush!) and no less than Oprah as the kindly neighbor-woman who yells " oh you poor baby!" a lot.
Seriously, this is melodrama at its zenith.
Then, just when I think I can't take anymore, Jodie Foster gets raped and belittled before my very eyes.
(and please try to process that Kelly McGillis was given top billing)
whew. maybe I need to stick to Lifetime movies.

"It Looks Like A Chinchilla"

Now, I am no fan of CNN's Miles O'Brein, but when you're right, you're right.

Labor Day (It's a Holiday)

That, Ladies and Germs is the hopefully the only time I will ever use a black-eyed peas title in this here blog.
Anyway...
As I await the finale of The Closer (no seriously, its good.) I'm bringing us back from a brief summer hiatus . This break included both Snakes on a Birthday and THE road trip; so clearly Kevin has some serious blogging to do. (He's midflight right now, so we'll cut him some slack.) There are many reasons to return to the blog. One month from today, I head to merry old England. Two months from today, America gets to see Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. But there are more pressing issues...
On behalf of Kevin & Leigh's Sexy-Ass Blog, I'd like to express our condolences at the news of the death of The Crocodile Hunter. The news is all over CNN, and the Prime Minister of Australia even shed tears at the news. The man who dangled his baby in the mouths of crocs and wrestled all sorts of reptiles, struck down by a Sting Ray? crickey.

Kevin presents an uncharacteristic rant about music.

Happy Madonna's Birthday, everyone! And a blessed one it is.

Speaking of Madonna, and the pop music world that she dominates, I just wanted to give a quick endorsement to an album that I happen to have fallen in love with. I know it's totally uncharacteristic for me to talk about something that's not a movie or a gay-ass play, but Elvis Costello & Allen Toussaint's The River In Reverse is without a doubt the best CD you can buy/download (LEGALLY!) this year.

Since we're coming up on the one year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina- the inept, totally bungled response to which was an act of terrorism which, committed by the Bush administration mind you, was more damaging than anything that's come out of the Middle East in the past five years- and not only is Spike Lee launching a four-part HBO documentary on the subject, but this great album is one that can help the still-ongoing healing process. I'm mostly moved by it because, while there are several ballads ("Nearer To You" and "All These Things" being the most beautiful), this is an album that really wraps itself in the jaunty, ragtag, fuck-it-let's-all-dance spirit of New Orleans.

"Tears and More Tears," the A#1 awesomest song on the album (and of the year), is a horn-blaring tribute to a great city, and its aim isn't to wallow in self-pity. It's a song that wants you to get up, get mad, and make sure that what happened last summer doesn't happen again. "Who's Gonna Help A Brother," which Allen Toussaint takes all by himself (Smart move!), gives a whimsical, smart-ass edge to the issue of the contemporary poor in America.

OK, I'm going to stop now. BUT BUY THIS ALBUM. You'll adore it. Seriously. And please don't steal music, because it's important for artists (even successful ones) who contribute something constructive to society to be compensated for that. It's always the DE-structive, corporate element that makes the cash! Put the money back in the hands of the people who inspire us! OK. Done. No, really. Done.

OK. Love you all.
KEVIN :-)

PS- I JUST found out that Joe Henry produced River In Reverse. And Joe Henry is married, of course, to... MADONNA'S SISTER. Small effin' world, y'all!

The Ballad of Kevin Wanting To Get It On With Ali G

I saw Talladega Nights- The Ballad of Ricky Bobby this weekend, as it seems many other folks did, and if you were one of the lucky ones who did see it, you know why I just have to say...

SASHA BARON COHEN MOTHERFUCKING RULES MY SCHOOL.

Jean Girard, effete French race car driver and "villain" (I guess?) of the film, emerges from this hi-frickin'-larious movie, as an out of the blue mascot for gay equality. From his first appearance- playing fusion jazz and smoking a slim cigarette- he crystalizes every stereotype of a haughty, elitist fag that stupid, ignorant, ugly red state America believes in. But Talladega, and this is why I fucking love it so FUCKING much, doesn't hold Jean as a target of ridicule- The movie laughs at the attitudes of the other characters towards Jean, who's portrated as smart, symapthetic, and CAPABLE. Ricky Bobby and his crew learn to be scared of Jean! He's so good at what he does that he instills humility in cocky, swaggery America. If you haven't seen it, you MUST. Let's support portrayals of kick-ass gay men in mainstream frat boy movies!

AAAAHHHH! God, I fucking love this flick. Get me the GLAAD Media Awards on the phone, and start engraving Sasha Baron Cohen's name now.

Oh, and the sloppy kiss at the end wasn't too bad, either. Yay!

XOXO, Kevin :-)

PS- Disclaimer: Anchorman is totally still my favorite Will Ferrel movie, mind you, because it starts the only woman I'd ever marry.

PPS- I'd also like to campaign this fine film for the MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss.

From Montauk to Eternity

This weekend Kevin & Leigh (and some of this blog's biggest fans) went beachin' .

This is the most important announcement in ages...

Salma Hayek does NOT have $100 million.

Don't even tease, guys. I mean, she has MONEY. Don't get me wrong. But she doesn't have $100 million. That's crazy. I mean, if Salma had it, Salma would give it.

Her direct quote on the subject: "If I had $100 million I would have retired and would be doing more things on an altruistic level than I can now. I would have opened centers in Mexico for violence against women and many other things."

Got it, Salma. You're not loaded ENOUGH to stop violence against women. Cool beans. (grumble, grumble)

Things Kevin Would Do If He Had However Much Money Salma Hayek Has*:

1. I would open centers in Mexico for violence against women "and many other things."
2. I would donate it here.
3. I would donate it here. (Seriously. And lots of it.)
4. I would have kept HOT FEET running. Forever.
5. I would produce Alec Baldwin a vehicle worthy of his prodigious talents.
6. I would buy a giant hug from Kimya Dawson and drop it over Israel, because they seem to have a killer case of the grumps lately.
7. I would donate to Queen Latifah's Last Holiday Oscar campaign. (Meryl Streep is AWESOME in The Devil Wears Prada, truly colossal, but this is the best performance of the year so far.) (Isn't it shameful how it all comes back to movies??)
8. Two words: Iced coffee. How much do you think I could get for $100 mil?

Anyway, the disclaimer to all of this is that I really do fucking love Salma Hayek. Her Frida nomination was richly deserved, and I'm a slut for her crazy dyke turn in Timecode. That said, if this twat has $500 to her name, she can still toss some homeless dude a ten spot and make the world a better place. I'm totally aware that her words were taken out of context (I'm sure she's v.v. generous), but I'm using them to make a point. And THAT is how Salma Hayek makes a difference. Well, that and Banditas.

Hugs for all,

KEVIN :-)

*Less than $100 million.

Ok, I'm willing to move to the tropics now.

Hybrid chocolate won’t melt in the heat!
Scientists say a cornstarch concoction has that milk-chocolate taste

Cocoa beans lie within a cross-section of a cacao pod. Although tropical countries tend to be the world's biggest cocoa producers, the finished chocolate doesn't stand up to the tropical heat. Now Nigerian researchers have come up with a heat-resistant formula that preserves the milk-chocolate taste.
Most brands of chocolate melt at temperatures between 77 and about 91 degrees Fahrenheit (25 to 33 degrees Celsius).
S.O. Ogunwolu and C.O. Jayeola, food scientists at the Cocoa Research Institute of Nigeria, have mixed cornstarch with cocoa to produce a heat-resistant chocolate that they say compares "favorably with conventional milk chocolate in terms of color, taste, smoothness and overall acceptability."
The starch acts as a chocolate thickener and prevents the outflow of cocoa butter — the natural fat of the cocoa bean — when the heat is on. The researchers found that using 10 percent starch was ideal and produced a product that was comparable to milk chocolate in taste tests.
The new concoction stays firm up to 122 degrees F (50 degrees C).
The recipe is outlined in the current issue of the British Food Journal.

Malan Breton is the new Kara Janx

Nothing has me more excited than the new summer season of Project Runway. Oh how I've missed those trips to the Tresume Hair Salaon and the Loreal Paris Makeup room (and...the Macy's accessory wall?!?) But I digress....

• Malan Breton. (who claims his hometown is...Long Island City. Please. People from Ronkonkoma can spit on you) Someone needs an attitude adjustment mister.
• Jeffery is a poor man's Santino. Models and feathers. High on yourself. We've seen this show before...(Heidi just called it whilst I was typing this) NEXT.
• Keith-if you're going to badmouth Michael Kors AND Nina Garcia, I'm going to scream you out of the television. Even if you made a pretty dress.
• Wait, Banana Republic isn't sponsering the show anymore? que?
• Wait...Vincent puts a bowl on someone's head, and he stays? Oy.
• Honestly, I don't know who to root for yet. I'm two-for-two in picking champs... such pressure. Whatever. Show me Tim Gunn barking at people, and I'm thrilled.

O beautiful, for spacious skies...

Really, the skies are far more spacious from a rooftop.
The fourth was celebrated in DC at the Dupont manor featuring tons of food and drink, dueling nintendo systems, a rooftop grill, an elaborate dumbwaiter system, a rooftop keg, sparklers, and fireworks galore. At somepoint during the fireworks, there were milkshakes featuring chocolate syrup and Jack Daniels.
Cheers to Laura and Angele for a grand celebration of our nation's independance.

MADONNA: Our Greatest Living Woman.

So last night, I plopped my rain-soaked hide down in Madison Square Garden to see Madonna's Confessions tour. This was the Queen Bitch's second night in NY, and apparently her first had been besmirched with tech problems. All of those were gone for Night 2, but what remained was the Gray Lady's insistence that all air conditioning be shut off, for the benefit of her vocal chords. I can tell you this: It was hot. It was VERY hot. Below, I'll run through the show, number-by-number, and along with a summary of each song, I'll include my body temperature and I'll rate myself on my level of dancy-ness (10 being on fire with glitter and passion, 1 being Stephen Hawking).

FUTURE LOVERS/I FEEL LOVE
Much has been made of Madonna's entrance, where she emerges from a disco ball, but nothing could prepare me for the sheer spectacle of it. She did this pose when she launched into "Future Loves rise...." where she jutted her rib cage out, like she was a topless mermaid on the front of a ship. Pure Star Magic. Also, her "I Feel Love" vocals were suspiciously excellent. Thanks, back-up singers!
Body Temp: 98 degrees (and rising)
Dancyness: 8/10

GET TOGETHER

I'm not sure I recall the specifics of this number, so fazed was I still by her entrance, but the dancers went buck wild with this one. And by "buck wild," I mean that they got ridden like S&M horses. By Madonna. We should all be so buck wild.

Body Temp: 98.9

Dancyness: A steady 8/10

LIKE A VIRGIN
"I made it through the wilderness..." It cuts me like a motherfucking knife.
Body Temp: 101 degrees
Dancyness: 10/10

JUMP

I mama-effin' love this song! And I did jump! As I recall, there was a lot of red during this. Or maybe that was just sweat in my eyes.

Body Temp: 105

Dancyness: 9.9999999999/10

LIVE TO TELL
Aaaaahhh, the most divisive song. So, Madgey is up on her much-ballyhooed glitter crucifix (crown o' thorns and all), and her graphic is something like "12 million children orphaned by AIDS in Africa." To my left, Oldest Friend, Oldest Friend's Younger Brother, and Fattest Friend all roll their eyes and snicker. To be right, Freak-Dancing Coworkers offer a proper, respectful observance. I join them. Liberal guilt works on me every time.
Body Temp: 109
Dancyness: n/a

ISAAC

She really is a Jew now, you know. She deserves mad extra credit for actually using a ram's horn onstage.

Body Temp: Cooling down to 105

Dancyness: 6/10

SORRY
... and the crowd goes wild. (I believe that this is when I took my shirt off, btw.)
Body Temp: 125
Dancyness: 37/10

LIKE IT OR NOT

I really like this song. It's a favorite for the gym, which is probably due to its defiant, swaggery beat. And swagger Madge did! This was her strutting parade.

Body Temp: 130

Dancyness: 10/10

I LOVE NEW YORK
Cartoon cityscape on the backdrop, Madonna rises wearing tight black pants, boots, a leather-esque glam rock blazer with a feathered color turned up. Clearly, I had no right to complain about being hot. (Personal fave Madonna quote: "Dance, motherfuckers! I wrote this song for you!")
Body Temp: 175
Dancyness: 10/10

RAY OF LIGHT

The trippy, we're-traveling-through-space-oh-my-god light effects kick into high gear. And so does my tittyshaking.

Body Temp: 200. Even.

Dancyness: 1,000/10

LET IT WILL BE

I'm not sure that this is one of my faves of hers, but she put her ass into it, no doubt. She was down front & center on that catwalk, and she/herself/Madonna was dancing like a retard on fire. Literally, she was amaaaaaazingly kick-ass and in charge.

Body Temp: 180

Dancyness: 9/10

SUBSTITUTE FOR LOVE

This is a ballad. And she sang it just sitting on some steps, wiping the hair out of her fave. So why was it so arresting? Nostalgia for "Ray of Light" (which is totes her best album)? Probably. I was sooooo with this number. Also, I can apparently turn any ballad into an excuse to slap my ass.

Body Temp: 180

Dancyness: 10/10

PARADISE (NOT FOR ME)

This was the juncture where everyone was supposed to sit, cool down (as well as anyone could in there) and recuperate. But, perhaps to my detriment, I kept swaying, singing, and shimmying with Freak-Dancing Coworkers.

Body Temp: 160

Dancyess: 7/10

MASH-UP: DISCO INFERNO & MUSIC

Oh, dear jesus. It starts. I would venture to say that for the last 20 minutes of the show, they actually put the heat on. Truly, it was staggering. OK, so "Music" meets "Disco Inferno," the dancers come out on roller skates, and Madonna rises from the stage in a Travolta-themed disco suit. I didn't even know that I had so much volume in me.

Body Temp: 900

Dancyness: 500,000/10

EROTICA

The suit comes off, revealing an ABBA bodysuit. Her "put your hands all over my body" moves nearly brings me to tears. [Note: This description is set in the present tense, because I can still see it so clearly.]

Body Temp: 1,000

Dancyness: 500,001/10

LA ISLA BONITA

Best described by Oldest Friend's Younger Brother as Madonna's attempt to cast herself in "Sarafina!" This is, I hope obviously, meant as a compliment.

Body Temp: 20,000

Dancyness: 1,000,000/10

LUCKY STAR

OK. OK. I'll try very hard not to spin out of control in talking about this number, but... I find it very hard. I truly, deeply love this song. And she sang it. Madonna sang it. Just for me. IN A CAPE!!!!!!!!!!! (ahem) I'm sorry. Sorry. It's just... Ugh. Uuummm. This was amazing. I will remember this for a veeeeeery long time.

Body Temp: A trillion

Dancyness: (see above)

HUNG UP

The finale. She rises. Purple bomber jacket. Leggings. HUGE aviator sunglasses. She teaches 20,000 New Yorkers to sing/rap/scream "Time goes by. So slowly." Golden balloons fall from the ceiling. The world is made of love and a thousand colorful lights.

Body Temp: n/a (My heart had stopped)

Dancyness: [insert one of those squiggly symbols for Infinity here]

Jiminy Kick-it!

During many summertime evenings, hundreds of "young professionals" in the District put on brightly colored t-shirts and gather in front of monuments and museums to keep alive a cherished childhood pastime: kickball. Sure, when you were in grade school the game probably wasn't sponsered by a bar;( and there defintely was no spiked jello as a refreshment) but we still play with big red playground balls. As a bonus, when you're a grownup, no one cares if you have absolutely no athletic ability whatsoever. Especially if you bring the jello. If you play your cards right, you may even get a celebratory lap dance at the bar after the game... (Hey, we're 6-2!)
www.kickball.com/dcconstitution

Three Hours of Dull.

Last Night The Gayrab and I went to see Three Days of Rain. Kids, it's never a good night at the theatre when the highlight of your evening is the Chicken Parm.
Anyway, Julia Roberts-not so much. How can you be from the south and foil a southern accent?
Paul Rudd- slightly better; despite the fact that we had to overcome his Keanu Reeves in Point Break hair during the first act. (We were rewarded after intermission when the rain starts and he finally takes his damn shirt off)
And coming in from left field...Bradley Cooper.
Star of the show. I was charmed by his eleven minute monologue; the gayrab was charmed by a pair of Bass Bucs and and a blue sweater that "left nothing to the imagination". All in all, the rain effect was the highlight of the show. Le Grand Sigh.
-Lethal

This is why God invented ABC.

Yesterday was Flag Day, which is a patriotic miracle of a day for two reasons:

1. It's my anniversary with Roommate. As of yesterday, we've officially been cohabitating for three years. (I know, right? Yay for us!)

2. On this day of saluting our proud country, ABC aired the series finale of the best one-hour drama on network television, "Commander-in-Chief."

Point #2 is really what we're going to be focusing on here, because the creators of this awesome program pulled out every emotional stop for the finale, and this audience-abandoned show went out with a trumpet blast of glory. As the episode opens, we find President Mackenzie Allen (Geena Davis) re-opening a controversial political issue, following the death of a conservative Illinois senator who had blocked it in the past. Was it abortion rights? Gay marriage? Gun control? No, it was the E.R.A. Now, you can tell that this show is fiction when a sitting president finds the issue of guaranteeing- in writing- equal rights for all American women and girls to be a pressing one. I mean, let's face it, who needs to secure a better world for our daughters when there's money to be made and wars to wage, right? But Mac went on the stump for it, and as the hour-long episode ended, the E.R.A was just two states away from being ratified, with the obvious implication that it would pass, and Mac stepped out (after one killer speech/monologue... more on that in a minute) to thunderous applause from a gathered crowd.

Speaker of the House Nathan Templeton (Donald Sutherland), and a number of conservo mouthpiece characters on the show, decried the E.R.A. as uncessary, as an obsolete holdover idea from a different era. Templeton solidifed his hyper-right position, and declared his candidacy for the presidency, setting up a clash of the titans between Mac and he. But in their first town hall meeting on the issue, Mac calmly, with complete control, brought the issue down to the most human level... Having the first female president doesn't negate the issue, because it's not about American women who are already well-monied or opinionated or looked-after. It's about working mothers who earn 74 cents to a man's dollar, which is the current reality in America.

I have nothing but the utmost hugs for ABC, Geena Davis, and the "Commander-in-Chief" creators for sending this great series off with such a battle cry of an episode. I caught Roommate crying buckets. (I was in a red velvet cake-induced coma, so I couldn't register emotions.) I'd let my tear ducts flow if the American public would snap to and realize that a progressive, human series like this one- with a progressive, human agenda- is JUST what we need right now.

Way to go, guys. Way to go.
KEVIN :-)

Is today the best day of my life?

Coffee may cut alcohol liver damage

CHICAGO, Illinois (Reuters) -- Could Irish coffee be the perfect drink?

Researchers report that drinking coffee cuts the risk of cirrhosis of the liver from alcohol -- by 22 percent per cup each day -- but they stopped short of saying doctors should prescribe coffee for that reason.

The report from the Kaiser Permanente Medical Care Program in Oakland, California, was based on a look at data from 125,580 people.

"These data support the hypothesis that there is an ingredient in coffee that protects against cirrhosis, especially alcoholic cirrhosis," concluded the report published in the Archives of Internal Medicine.

What could cause the apparent protective effect is not clear, the report said.

"Coffee is a complex substance with many potentially biologically active ingredients," the study said. "The fact that coffee is also frequently taken with added cream, milk, sugar or other substances adds more possibilities for health effects."

Other studies with similar findings have led to speculation that caffeine could play a role. However, the protective effect was not found among tea drinkers, though the authors said they were not nearly as numerous in the study as coffee users.

The report did not suggest alcohol users increase their coffee consumption or seek out drinks like Irish coffee that combine booze with coffee.

"Even if coffee is protective, the primary approach to reduction of alcoholic cirrhosis is avoidance or cessation of heavy alcohol drinking," the researchers said.

In Praise of Beauty (WARNING: This post contains mild hyperbole)

Last night, my gorgeous, talented roommate and I celebrated her birthday (3 weeks after the fact) by going to see Kathy Griffin, easily the funniest woman on the planet Earth, who was playing live at the Nokia Theatre in Times Square. Clearly, Kathy's demographic is pretty damn gay, so I should have looked better. (My skin was blotchy, and though my new hair is KICK ASS, I just looked a little dump-ba-dump.) I should have been more in "Gotta get a boyfriend!" mode, and I should have seen it coming that this night would result in me coming face to face with the most beautiful man of all time.

OK. So Roommate and I are walking in to the lovely theatre (which I really do like v.v. much), when she squeezes my arm, and says, "Kevin. Kevin. Kevin. Kevin." I turn to my right, and there he is, descending to his Front Orchestra seats (oh, they put chairs in, btw). Project Runway Season 2 contestant DANIEL VOSOVIC. Now, it may have come up on this blog or elsewhere before, but I am in love with this man. I mean... He's amazing. I feel a literal deep, abiding affection for him, to say nothing of how spellbindingly attracted to him I am. Anyway, I could literally feel the blood drain from my body, and as we went to our seats, I def began to hyperventilate. (I am SO serious. My crush on him is THAT pathetic.) But then Kathy Griffin went on, did two hours of the funniest shit I've ever heard in my life, and thank jeebus I didn't see Vos again on the way out. I couldn't have handled it. Am I a pussy? Should I have said hi? I mean, I really want to end up marrying him, but I think I might have crapped all over myself if I'd gotten within 5 feet of him.

C'mon, guys. If we all pool our contacts, we can get me a date with Vosovic, right? We TOTES can!! It's my American Dream!!

Fonda-ly, KEVIN :-)

When it rains, it pours. And when it suns, I blog.

So I think it's painfully obvious that despite an '06 resolution to write on this damn blog every day, it just hasn't happened. Please excuse the monstrous absence (A MONTH!!! AAAHHH!!!) Well, I'm back for now to share some photos from an amazing day that I had. Kate and I went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, so... Enjoy.

Now, that's a Birthday Cake of a Different Color...

I think this photo pretty much sums up my bday festival on Sat evening.
You know things are going well when candles are placed in a giant vat of vodka-filled jello...



For the record, I'm still 24 for another 22 hours and 47 minutes...

"Now you go feed those hogs before they worry themselves into anemia!"

That is an actual quote from The Wizard of Oz. That Auntie Em. What a character.
I heart the IMDB. (which also told me Basic Instinct 2 made a paltry 3.2 million this weekend, and that in NY and DC they are pulling the trailer for that god awful 9/11 movie, which I totally agree with...But I digress...) Anyway, the reason I needed a Wizard of Oz quote is that DC is currently under a TORNADO WARNING. How is that possible? Tornados are supposed to happen to people in red states, people on farms, people who...know what the hell your supposed to do in a tornado. (Low ground I think, right?) At any rate, if Bill Paxton drives by and cows start flying around I'll let you know.
Although, a tornado just might take all the cherry blossoms off the trees, which may make the 17 million tourists currently clogging up the metro go home. That would be nice.
In other news, a week from tomorrow I will be closer to thirty than twenty. I'm accepting condolences and donations of fine spirits and wine. Speaking of which, that makes my bday party co-host, Paul, 25 today. Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, mein Liebschen!
Finally- this blog officially has over three hundred posts.
Kevin, what does that say about us?
-Lethal.

BROOKLYNITES, finally, again.

SUCCESS!

Kate and I are Ft. Greene residents. Nothing has broken. We're alive.

Yay.

A Note on Facial Hair, by special guest blogger Katie McGrath!

(Katie McGrath, a dear friend of this blog, has a few things to say about beards, goatees, stubble, and 'staches. Clearly, this is the ideal platform. Let 'er rip, McGrath!)

You may have noticed that the media is currently fascinated by a "resurrection" of facial hair. Over the past few months there have been articles in Time Out NY, The Boston Herald, etc., spots on The Today Show, an entire documentary known as "The Glorious Mustache Challenge," and just last week the follicle frenzy made it's way into the New York Times. (http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/23/fashion/thursdaystyles/23BEARDS.html?_r=1&oref=slogin )

Now seeing as I've been talking about this for years I think I'll jump on the current literary bandwagon and tell you what I think of this trend.

Side note: My theory is mainly based on NYC because of it's high gay population.

The recent popularity of male facial hair is a result of the woman's search a masculine lover.There has been such a growth of public homosexuality (which we all love) that straight women have to set straight men further apart from their gay boys. Due to the influx of femininity we need masculinity and we've been driven to the extreme.
Our gay counter-parts have taken us shopping and then sent us to bed the grizzly man.

Think about it; we've got all these gay friends but we don't want to sleep with them. We as straight women don't necessarily think of them as "Men", in the sense of someone we are attracted to. Therefore the men that we are attracted to are turning out to be more rugged than in the past. Those pretty-boy, Abercrombie and Fitch models that used to do it for us are now turning on the boys at the club a whole lot more than they're working it for the ladies. We see a clean shaven man with a blue button down shirt and we have to put on our gaydar but if we see a guy who looks a bit disheveled, sporting a bit of scruff then we know right away that he is a straight man.

I believe that I speak for many women when I say that today, more so than a few years ago, I am definitely more attracted to men with a healthy amount of scruff (no full beards for me.) The fact is that when I'm with a man I want to know that I'm with a MAN. It's just a reminder of their masculinity - it's hot.

So ladies, the next time you find yourself stopping a makeout session to get the hair out of your mouth or waking up with irritated skin around your mouth, blame it on the gays!

WHAT WORKS AND WHAT DOESN'T:
1. Goatee and/or Chin-Strap: No Way. There's a fine line between hot and trashy and unfortunately those two are the latter.
2. Lil' bit of a Mustache (no beard) : The Prepubescent look. Definitely a NO.
3. Full fluffy mustache (no beard): The Magnum PI look. Some woman like this look. I'm not one of them but I guess it can pass.
4. Bushy Beard & Mustache Set- Hippie or Man-in-the-woods look: Only works for me if they\re a tortured artist, and oh how that works for me.
BEST LOOK: The "I haven't shaved in a week." I think this is the look that pulls in the ladies. EXAMPLE: A few years ago I confused all my friends by having "relations" with this short Jewish pothead with shaggy hair and a face full of scruff. I couldn't put my finger on what attracted me to him but I just kept telling them that there was just "something about him." I realized what that something was one evening when I saw him after a full shave. I was shocked to learn that I was turned on by his facial hair. I loved the scruff! I loved the rough feeling of it against my face and I wanted it back. So when he said to me, "You don't like it do you? I look 12, don't I?", I answered with a very unconvincing "Nnnooo, I don't hate it." and then followed with "It'll grow back."

"I totally hooked up with the Town Crier... I hope he doesn't tell anyone"

This past weekend I journeyed south to Colonial Williamsburg. I have fond memories of playing fife and skipping through time (in my yellow jelly sandals) circa 1987. Let me tell you kids- 20 years has NOT been good to this place. As it turns out, you can beat the proverbial dead horse that is Williamsburg in about 17 minutes. Were it not for the availability of Draft Cider and giant Turkey legs, the whole thing might have been a bust.
My fellow time-travelers, Paul and Neena and I managed to make our own fun. Paul and I also got see our friend Rebecca, who we studied abroad with in Germany. To understand both the low and high point of this mini-break, you will need to picture the following scene:
Your are in a hotel bar called "Bones"
in the bar are the following groups:
1-some very proud rednecks having a pool tourney.
2-the inebriated guests of an African-American wedding reception who have decided to keep the party going by drinking an playing "electric slide" on the juke box
3-actors from Colonial Williamsburg, still wearing their costumes, sitting in stockings and knee-pants at the bar.
4-Us.
Oh, and did I mention that it 's Karaoke night?!?
Our mission was clear. We had drink long island iced teas and break into the hotel pool after it closed.
My next adventure will be Paul and Leighs 50th Birthday party, coming up in like, a week.

"Your life sounds like a sordid novel."

I'm really tired. Kate and I signed a lease for a new apartment on Friday- Yeah! Fort Greene! I heart Brooklyn!- which means that now until when we move (AKA, next Saturday), my life is an endless montage of boxes, crying, alcohol and garbage bags. That sounds totally kinky, but it's not. It's suckville. Oh, and OH! Check this out for size: I have a dislocated vertebrae in my back. True story. It hurts like a MOTHERFUCKER, and I'm going to a chiropractor to have it adjusted, or manipulated, or whatever they do with it, and then hopefully, I won't end up a paralyzed, drooling burden on society. Quite truly, I think this is some sort of karmic bitch-slap for all the times I mocked Christopher Reeve.

But things are looking up, because right down the street from where Kate and I will be living is BAM, currently home to the greatest performance in New York City-- Academy Award-winner Cate Blanchett in Hedda Gabler. I had the good fortune of seeing this "show" today with my beloved coworker (and fellower sufferer) Cara Joytotheworld David. This is such a half-assed production, from Andrew Upton's (that's Mr. Blanchett, FYI) bizarrely modern translation to Robyn Nevin's incomprehensibly "busy" direction- I mean, it's actually quite something to be THAT mediocre. But Cate Blanchett is just so fucking bat-shit insane in this part, that you quite literally don't even notice anything wrong with it. I mean, it's totally a one-woman show. Ben Brantley called it "a dozen performances in one,"and that gaywad is so flippin' right, except I think it's closer to 45 distinct "Heddas" that she employs. In all honesty, she camps it up with such "Dynasty" high style and the most insane energy I've ever seen in my life... She quite literally beats you in the face with her ever-mercurial arsenal of characterizations. Cara perhaps put it best when she likened Cate's performance to a 1-2-3 of Nicolette Sheridan, Katharine Hepburn and Kathleen Turner. I think there's also some Barbara Stanwyck, some Charles Busch, and even some Bette Davis. Basically, she's a Grand High Bitch, always either smoking, pouting, skipping, yelling or vogue-ing, and it's genius. If the play is inappropriately modern, she's in-inappropriately futuristic.

But the character of Hedda really spoke to me...

WAYS THAT I'M LIKE HEDDA GABLER, by Kevin Manganaro:

1. We're both trapped in constrictive living situations. (Sorry, Kate.)
2. We both like pulling the hair of our long-time, mousy school chums. (Sorry, Joe.)
3. We're both likely to commit suicide by the end of the next 2 hour and 45 minutes. (Did I mention how much by back hurts?)
4. We share an affinity for high-collared 19th century gowns with golden capes.

Anyway, that's where I'm at right now. High art, low(-er) back pain, and a gross excess of packing tape. Anyway, kisses to call. Please send Kate & I warm wishes. Hedda would want it that way.

KEVIN :-)

Shenanigans!

I heart Being Irish. and I love St. Pats. Please enjoy the following photographic evidence of the previous statements.:


This is Antonio, world's greatest bartender, back for one night only.

I'm using my Shamrock antenne to improve cell reception.

If you're Irish and you know it, read our blog!

Kevin M.- 1/2 Irish. (Each of my parents is 1/2 Irish, so that makes me 1/2 Irish too, right? Like... I get 1/4 of it from each of them, and that makes 1/2, right? Wait... Or is it 1/8? Can someone text me the answer?)
Leigh S.- 1,000/2 Irish.
BOTTOM LINE: Happy St. Patrick's Day! Yay!

This is such a sweet-ass holiday. Man, oh man. As soon as 6:00 rolls around, I am flying on wings of potato to Molly's Shebeen of 3rd Avenue and parking myself in sawdust and puking frat boys until the sun comes up. Hooray!

If I can be all righteous-gay for a second, while we totally love, appreciate and obsess over St. Pat's Day, as well as the contributions of countless Irish men and women in America (and specifically in New York... Hello, they built the mother-effin' subways!), it remains a sad state of affairs that gays and lesbians are denied participation in the St. Patrick's Day Parade year after year. The Irish sensibility that I know is so far from exclusionary, and yet the greatest agent of evil in the modern world (the Catholic church) has it tentacles so deep in the minds of the people who organize the Parade that year after year we get shit on. It's really sad, and we encourage everyone to avoid the Parade, if at all possible. And big ups to City Council Speaker Christine Quinn, a fucking awesome lesbian woman, for boycotting. We love you, brother.

Speaking of boycots, is anyone with me in turning on a frigid tit to "Mission: Impossible: 3: Colon"? Tom Cruise needs to be stopped, if not exported to Camaroon where he'd invariably be stoned to death for the crime of "creepiness."

Last item of business, a snippet from a Beastie Boys interview, courtesy of Joe Rockonis:

Little news came out of the Q&A session, with fans asking the trio to talk about their early inspirations or discuss their views on Three 6 Mafia winning an Oscar. "Nothing against them," Ad Rock said, "but we think Dolly Parton was robbed."

OK, all. Have a happy and safe SPD. And if you catch "The Quiet Man" on AMC or one of those channels this weekend, give it a watch. It's one of the best movies ever made. OK. Peace.

KEVIN :-)

Morning Announcements:

1) Lady of the Manor on R Street and selfless UNC Basketball Fan Laura Collier has a new blog.
Check it out!

2) It is with great sadness that I inform you that the inventor of the chicken nugget has died.
I think that anyone who has eaten any meal with me, ever, understands how I feel about this great loss. I wonder if the inventor of the cheez doodle is still alive and kicking? (Also, thank you to the three separate individuals who felt the need to fwd me his obit. God, I'm predictable...) Incase you were wondering, His funeral will be followed by a Chicken BBQ at the church. (No, I'm not kidding, click the link...)

A Bright spot in the Oscar Telecast ...

I realize the saddness of the Brokeback Loss. I too was stunned, disheartened and sad that even the movie industry still manages to be homophobic.
However, I think we need to remember that positive things occurred on that fateful sunday night not too long ago. Namely; George Clooney.

I wasn't really the former Dr. Ross's biggest fan, but I think I may have been mistaken. The man didn't just win an oscar, he was throughly charming. He was flashing smiles and lingering in bed with John Stewart. He was mentioned in 3 oscar speeches. Entertianment Weekly even had a Jack vs George "which-cool-guy-got-more-shoutouts-and-screentime" meter (Jack won 15 to 12) I was saying it will be sad when Nicholson dies, because who will the cameras linger on at these award shows? Who will be the go-to amusing movie star with a smirk? Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Clooney.

This is my last post about the "Brokeback" backlash. I SWEAR.

You've been around for such a long time now

Oh maybe I could leave you but I don't know how.

And why should I be lonely ev'ry night

When I can be with you oh yes you make it right.

And I don't listen to the guys who say that you're bad for me

And I should turn you away

'Cause they don't know about us

And they've never heard of love.

I get a feeling when I look at you

Wherever you go now I wanna be there too.

They say we're crazy but Ijust don't care

And if they keep on talking still they get nowhere

So I don't mind if they don't understand

When I look at you and you hold my hand

'Cause they don't know about us

And they've never heard of love.

Why should it matter to us if they don'tapprove?

We should just take our chances while we've got nothing to lose.

Baby!

There's no need for living in the past

Now I've found good loving gonna make it last.

I tell the others don't bother me'Cause when they look at you they don't see what I see

No I don't listen to their wasted lines

Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs

'Cause they don't know about us

And they've never heard of love.

NoI don't listen to their wasted lines

Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs''

Cause they don't know about us

And they've never heard of love.

They've never heard of motherfuckin' love. If you're so moved, please follow this link to donate to GLAAD (as I have done) to keep positive images of the gay & lesbian community in the media:

https://www.glaad.org/donate/index.php?memb_type=member/

Everybody play nice.

KEVIN.

I have two words: JACK NASTY.

Monday, March 6th, 2006.

Another Oscar season has come and gone, and there's always that definite let-down after the Big Night, for those of us who salivate over show business awards year-round. Inevitably, something doesn't go the way you'd like, etc., and that's a sad thing. Not a major thing, but a sad thing nonetheless.

Last night, however, was not just "a sad thing." This wasn't a case of a Seabiscuit-style upset for Best Picture. This is not a case of what people voted FOR. It's what they voted AGAINST. Simply put, this is homophobia of the worst kind, and it's a crying fucking shame. No movie that has ever amassed such a critical and popular support- not to mention Best Picture honors from every association out there, the highest gross of all the BP candidates, and the highest number of nominations- and then failed to take the top prize. The best equivalent would be if "Schindler's List" had lost. Can imagine how that would have gone over? Fucking riots in the streets. Which is what we all should be doing.

I am so fucking disappointed in this world. The gay community is such a trusting, open-hearted one (It took me years to figure that out, but it's the truth), and like so many on the left, when we feel like we're making progress, we stop trying. Because we're trusting, hopeful people. And that's what happened here. We saw this amazing, life-changing vehicle of a movie come into the country and change people hearts and minds... I *truly* believe that that happened. And now, clearly, we see that it's not enough. We'll just need to keep pushing for what's right, with or without the help of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences.

Jack Nicholson is so not invited to gay fucking wedding.

Kevin.

A random endorsement if ever there was one.

How cool would shit be if Alec Baldwin ran for political office? I mean, he's as left as can be, he named his daughter "Ireland" (which, speaking as someone who plans to name his future daughter "Punch," I think is pretty cool), and he's absolutely genius in the Roundabout's new off-Broadway production of Joe Orton's Entertaining Mr. Sloane. Truly, I saw it last week, and wow. GREAT FUCKING SHOW. Totally funny. And he plays gay! I love it. J'swoon. My beloved "Command in Chief" may have met an early demise- And can we just do a spit take for the fact that America isn't even ready for a female President ON TELEVISION?!- but I refuse to let the progressive dream die, and so I'm pinning all my hopes on Alec Baldwin, Pride of Long Island.

(This is the most random idea I've ever had, but it totally makes sense, right?)

Oh No He Didn't.

Nick Lachey. Former Boy-band member. Former Husband of a frequent US-Weekly Cover girl. Not so bad I suppose. Now I hear he's suing for alimony. I'm sorry, but are you kidding me?
I'm not one to defend someone who's repretoire includes song titles such as "Sweet Kisses", but please. He needs to like, go dance or skate with the stars or something. Go on a VH1 reality show. Admit you're a C-Lister. Go hang out with Meadow Soprano's Ex. Don't be sucking money off of Jessica. I'm sure you have a few mil in community property. Atleast she earned it (hawking pizza and lip gloss, and apparently, singing.)
Now I have that off my mind I can go back to other things, like watching 15 hours of Olympic excitement . If only one could mute Dick Button and and not the music. Sigh. Did anyone else know that the bobsled was actually spelled Bobsleigh ? I certainly did not. (Ofcourse, that makes sense coming from a girl who's very name made her constantly want to call a sleigh a slee) Ok, I'm back to figureskating. Root for Emily Hughes. (Girl's from Strong Island afterall.)
OH. If anyone has any ideas of who/what I should be showing up to Kevin and Kate's Oscar fete dressed as, do tell....

Blizzard '06: Not above the neck.

OK, so it, like, REALLY snowed yesterday. I went out at around 1:00pm yesterday, and shit had been partially cleared out, and it was still almost up to my vagina-equivalent. Snow is so pretty though, right? I really dig it. I took some photos, several of which you will now see:



This is Kate. Kate stands on East 21st Street. It has snowed.













This is me. There were no cars on 3rd Avenue. I am gorgeous.








This is Kate. No, I'm just kidding, it's a squirrel. Though I have named the squirrel "Kate." He lives in Gramercy Park. [Ed. note: Does anyone remember Wild America? That show rocked my preteen world.]









This is me/Kevin trying to be arty. Kevin's not an artist, though. Unless you count his Bachelor's degree in the Arts and Sciences. Then he's an artist. And a scientist, too.









This is Katie McGrath. Snow or no snow, she's still the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.






'Flakes,
Kevin :-)

Uumm, I just stepped into the other room. For a month or so. I swear!

I think the last time I posted on this was circa 9 years ago. There's no excuse for my busy, harried life keeping me from The Blog for so long, soI won't make any excuses. I'll get right to the thoughts I've collected during my absence...

Re: Oprah

This James Frey thing is bullscat. I'm literally disgusted and nauseated by this namby-pamby housewives wanting to rip him apart. Guess what- A lot of authors blur the line between fiction and memoir. Get the fuck over it. Bottom line: The self-satisfied "Starting Over" rejects who make up Ho-prah's viewership don't object to lies and exaggerations when they concern, Oh, war and foreign policy and the direction of our country. No. But when it involves a book *THAT HELPS PEOPLE*, they lose their shit. I saw a woman on the episode in question- in tears, mind you- saying, "I will never trust memoirs again!" Grow the fuck up.

Re: Heath Ledger

Why are you so weird and/or boring? The honeymoon's over. I'm voting for Terrence Howard. Which brings us to...

Re: The Oscar nominations (an open letter to Maria Bello)

Dear Maria Bello,

Hey, girl! What's up? Hope all's well in Snubsville. Listen, are you sitting down? I really want to talk to you. You know- because I pretty muchI say it all the time- that I think you gave the best female performance of the year. In "A History of Violence," you're smart, sexy, strong, pissed-off, and about seven kinds of naked. So where did your awards go? It wasn't for lack of campaigning, I'll tell you that. And don't you think it's weird that they oust you from *your* category for Catherine Keener (who was great in "Capote," but her part is SO background... like, she doesn't have ONE scene where she so much as raises her voice) and Frances McDormand (who was kick-ass, but she's always kick-ass... even in Something's Gotta Give... and she totally won't even show up)? That's some BULLSHIT right there, and I'll tell you what it comes down to: They just don't like you. Between your amazing work in "Violence" and your batshit-insane turn in "The Cooler," there's no doubt in anyone's mind that you're a strong contender for Best Actress of the New Millennium, but... The Academy just doesn't dig you. Maybe you don't fit that "long-suffering wife" mold that they look for. Well, you know what, world? Maria Bello is too strong to sit around and suffer. She runs and she kicks and she punches. Bottom line, babycakes... Don't change to please anyone. Don't you lower yourself to conform your woman-on-top-ness, just because doing so might fit their tastes. They look stupid, not you. You just look hot.

Sincerely,

Kevin Manganaro :-)

Re: Life, in general, as of late

I've been writing a lot lately, which makes me totally happy. I'm working on a play with my beloved roomate, Kate Snakesinson. Look for it... Sometime. It's totally not done yet, so don't look for it anytime soon. You'll be notified. I'm also working on a book/short story... Thing. It'll be REALLY good, and I have the film adaptation cast in my head already. (Hint: A certain HBO sitcom star-cum- lesbian Manhattanite might want to clear her schedule!) So, basically, creative things are going on, and that makes me feel awesome.

Re: Lodging

Snakesinson and I might be moving. We're not sure. But it's fun to look at apartments on Craigslist. (I mean, I don't actually look for them... Craigslist scares me... Kate sends them to me...) Also, my parents are moving!! I mean, they'll still live in Garden City, NY (AKA- Honkeytown, USA), but they're totally hitting up a new crib. The excitement!!

Re: Ailments

I fucked up my back. Does anyone know how to fix backs? Call me if you do.

Re: Black History Month

OK, so Mothers Day is my favorite holiday, followed by Christmas and Administrative Professionals Day, but my favorite long-form holiday is SO Black History Month. (Coretta Scott King, one of the greatest human beings of this or any other century, passed on Jan. 30th, sadly, so she missed it kick-off, and her memorial services will surely be a centerpiece for this year's BHM.) Logo has decided to celebrate this epic 28 days with "Paris is Burning," the acclaimed late-80s documentary about the underground "balls" of black and hispanic drag queens. It's like rap battles, but in heels. Think "You Got Served," but in fishnets. ALSO, Logo has brought "Holiday Heart" into my life- Ving Rhames plays a drag queen who takes in crack addict Alfre Woodard and her young daughter. Awesome. AWESOME. Also, HBO keeps throwing "The Josephine Baker Story" at me. I can't wait until they turn up two of my all-time faves, their Rosa Parks documentary and "Readings from the Slave Narratives."

Re: Journalistic integrity

Last week, I got to be a roving reporter for B'way.com's video section, covering the opening night of "Rabbit Hole." I got to stick a mic in people's faces, hang out with our awesome new video guy, and further my goal of becoming Mary Denham, the Broadway Buzz lady.

Re: The two best shows on television

"Project Runway," ohmygod. I hyperventilate every time I even think of this show. If Vosovic doesn't win, I honestly might throw myself onto 2nd Avenue. I'm obsessed with him. THEY MADE DRESSES OUT OF PLANTS. That's, like... That's the kind of talent that I can't even process. And Andrae, sorry to see you go, because you did sew a zipper into Spanish moss, but you'll always have your "photo inspiration" dress (...and the knowledge that you stayed WAY too long). I can't wait for Kara to go. Speaking of not being able to wait, where the fuckballs is my beloved "Commander in Chief"? I swear to jeebus, if they cancel that show, I will girlcott America. Geena Davis, man.

Re: The Children of Bellevue's Reach Out & Read benefit, 2/6/06

So speaking of US presidents, I'd like to nominate Katie McGrath for the '08 ticket. My beloved- BUT BELOVED- darling organized a successful, entertaining, smoothly-run and celebrity-packed benefit for this awesome literacy program at Bellevue (where she rules the roost). Julianne Moore (4-time Oscar bridesmaid and my all-time #2 icon of life) lent her talent and her celebrity friends to the event, and they charmed my pantie-girdle to the floor with readings from childrens books (ya know... to illustrate the importance of readings to kiddies). Basically, here's some math that you can take right to the bank: Sandra Bernhard + "Olivia Saves the Circus"= GOLD. More info on the program: http://childrenofbellevue.org/

Re: My musical abilities, such as they are

Our good friend Princess is having a karaoke birthday this weekend. I don't sing... Like, at all, BUT, I can, ya know, wiggle and scream my way through some tunes. The best one I discovered recently? Dolly Parton's "Baby, I'm Burning." MAN, I do that well. Sadly, I also discovered the least-suited-to-my-not-a-voice song ever... "Rocky Top." Oy.

And now it's 10:05pm- Do you know where you children are? I know where I am. And it's going to watch "Gilmore Girls." Love you, everybody! Thanks for not deserting the blog! (And that means you especially, Fitzpatrick-Kupchins!)

XOXO

Kevin :-)

"We will NOT, as a nation, create Crab-People"

I'd like to point out the highlight of el Presidente's address last night, maybe some of you missed it:
"Tonight I ask you to pass legislation to prohibit the most egregious abuses of medical research: human cloning in all its forms, creating or implanting embryos for experiments, creating human-animal hybrids ..."
Yes, the development of Man-i-mals. It was a top concern for all americans. I know I'll sleep better knowing that a real-life Cheetarah or Liono won't be walking the streets anytime soon. Thank god president bush is keeping us safe from the real dangers in life.
Well, look on the brightside, 5 down, 2 to go.
sidebar: Madonna is opening the Grammys w/Gorillaz animated into the background?!?!? What?

Another Designer is off to the big Treseme' Hair Salon in the Sky

I swear Project Runway is the best thing on television.
I'm actually kind of not sure who's going to win. (But Kara Janx, clearly your number is up...)
Kevin and I are clearly both, in the words of Micheal Kors "Full-on Dan Fans".
Only time will tell I suppose.
A couple of things...
Last Night on HBO at like 4am "The Secret Life of Mary-Margaret: Portrait of a Bulimic" was on. Remember Calista Flockhart???
In other TV news, I discovered that Animal Planet has an entire show that takes place at the North Shore Animal League. That warms my heart. Somewhere I still have my blue paw-print covered volunteer sweatshirt.
Try as I might, I can not find a picture- but I promise you all that Kanye West was wearing a Les Mis Sweatshirt on Ellen. I know he supports the gays and all, but please.
Also, two very sad democratic senators have broken ranks and decided to support Scalito's nomination to the Supreme Court. Its not like we had a chance to stop it, but giving W. any reason to gloat is uncalled for.
In other Political news, even Canada is being conservative. Great...

Today, Jan. 19th, 2006, is a day of national import.

HAPPY 60th BIRTHDAY TO DOLLY PARTON!!

We paused earlier this week to observe the birthday of Martin Luther King, a great American hero and one of Kevin's all-time icons. Now, on Thursday, Jan. 19th, 2006, we pause to salute the greatest entertainer in the history of the world, Dolly Rebecca Parton, who was born unto us on this day in 1946 in Sevierville, Tennessee.

Dolly has given the world many gifts over the years- "I Will Always Love You" (which will always belong to her and not some disgusting crack addict from *hello* New Jersey), "Here You Come Again," "The Grass is Blue," "9 to 5" (both the song and her Oscar-worthy performance in the film), and the new "Travelin' Thru"- but I wanted to just take a moment to give my heartfelt shout-out to my favorite overlooked D.Part gem...

"I Can See the Light of a Clear Blue Morning"

I'm honestly not sure when this song was first written, but I first became aware of it as part of the "Straight Talk" soundtrack (though I really do think it was written and recorded earlier than that... maybe I'm wrong). Now, I'm on the whole a rather chipper person, but like anyone, there are times when I get down/gloomy/blue/sullen, and, literally, this song possesses such a shocking amount of blind optimism, that it can truly erase any bad mood, ever. So as Dolly enters her 7th decade, I just wanted to say:

Dolly, you're a genius.

I love you.

I'm coming to Dollywood in August. Get ready.

Happy 60th.

I adore you.

God bless you, Mountain Angel.

KEVIN :-)

pros of living below the mason-dixon line

I've just discovered that in Virginia, Rite-Aide has a wine aisle.
Finally! A girl can get q-tips, prescription drugs and merlot all in the same place.
What a discovery.
PS I went bowling on a military base on sat night.
-L

"I mean, who names their kid Jack with the word 'off ' at the end of their name?"

Shout out to George Clooney for that soundbite about everyone's least fav. republican lobbyist.
anyway...now that Kevin's had his two cents...here are mine:
um...i think Issac Mizrahi needs to be stopped. Even tough he did fluster Hillary Swank, which I'm sure Kevin was thrilled with.
I'm not sure who was best dressed...Maybe Emmy Rossum? She always looks good.
I think worst was actually Drew Barrymore, who I love, but please,wear a bra.
Michelle Willams was robbed. I love that Heath Ledger was dressed as her prom date, complete w/matching corsage.
Also I guess I have to go see Transamerica now. It'll be good to see Felcity Huffman actually doing something useful. David Chase was right, that is a two season show. Ofcourse they had to go giving it awards, so that it can continue sucking for years to come...desperate indeed.
Also I was super happy for Sandra Oh. I heart Grey's Anatomy so bad.
In summation: Way to go Gays!
speaking of which... my Project Runway dress arrived yesterday, it is GORGEOUS. Now I just need somewhere to wear it.
-L

"Every woman in Hollywood with breasts should follow Queen Latifah around with a notepad."

I love the Golden Globes. They're so fun and silly and ridiculous- Except when they award gay cowboys. THEN, they have a righteous fury, which was the case at Monday night's awards. As you may or may not be able to see coming, BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN is shaping up not only for a Best Picture win (which is starting to look reeeeeeeeeeally inevitable), but also for the coveted Trannie Award (hint, hint). Anyway, kudos to that wonderful, groundbreaking film and everyone associated with it.

Now on to what really matters.

Best Dressed- The cast of DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES
Felicity Huffman excepted, I'm 100% over this show (which has actually gotten toxicly homophobic and racist this season... which is Just. So. Odd.), but I do want to give a shout-out to Teri Hatcher, Marcia Cross, Trannie Huffman, Eva Longoria and even Nicolette "Linebacker" Sheridan for all managing to look good on the same night- which is a feat that they've never acheived before. (Sure, Eva's disgusting extensions almost cost them this slot, but cmon... They looked damn glam.)

Honorable Mentions: Zhang Ziyi, Keira Knightley, Laura Linney, Michelle Williams.

The Connie & Carla Award- Geena Davis and Emma Thompson
When two ex-Oscar winners come to an awards show fully dressed as drag queens- biological men in outlandish costumes, barely concealing their testes- then you know that this really is 'The Year of the Queer' in Hollywood.

Worst Dressed- Cynthia Nixon
I adore her more than words, but... Eeeepp. Wow. I mean... Wow.

Dishonorable Mentions: Reese Witherspoon, Sarah Jessica Parker, Rachel Weisz.

06' ? oh yes!

HI KIDS
I'm so sorry, I've been distracted by the following things:
Dragging drunk Morrocans around Manhattan, Seeing people I went to high school with who are married and have produced on the LIRR, garlic knots (which one cannot find south of the mason-dixon line) gay cowboys, baking no less than 816 Christmas cookies, my parents, CHAMPAGNE, Schnitzel and Berliner Weisses, the New Jersey Turnpike, crashing new years eve parties, reuniting with old friends who have jobs that make me jealous, and serving margaritas and $6.99 Burritos with a smile.
It won't happen again.
I'd like to say the following things:
Is it possible I already kind of miss New York whislt loving the district? SIGH
I heart Katie McGrath. Not only for being the inspiration for my tattoo, but for being fabulous company
There were so many different T-shirts at American Apparel thatI got overwhelmed and picked black.
My roomates are both sick and I'm fairly certain that I'm afraid no amount of zicam or vitamin C will me
OK, I really need to go buy a calendar now. They really should include January, so you can adjust.

Two-Double O- SEX

It can't possibly be 2006. That can't be a fact. I mean, if it were really 2006, that would mean that I would be turning 25 this year. Which can't be real. In any way. No.

I need to take mind off the passage of time (and what it's doing to my face). Now that we're three days into 2006- Which reminds... Happy 76th to everyone's favorite Grandblogger, Mae Manganaro! Hooray! - we can appreciate the ravages of 2005 from a distance and get underway with this blog's first ever awards, voted on by you, our dear, sweet readership. Leigh and I will probably add our own two cents (each, so four cents) about the movies, music and TV shows of 2005, but for now, please enjoy some simply questions about the cultural highs and lows of the year that was:

Welcome to the first ever Trannie Awards!!

Category 1: High Point in American Culture in 2005
1-Finding out what was in the hatch on "Lost."
2-"Being Bobby Brown" premieres on Bravo. HELL TO THE NO!
3-Bush's approval numbers reach the lowest point of his presidency. Ha ha. Fuck off and die.
4-"Commander In Chief" premieres on ABC.
5-Brangelina.
6-"Brokeback Mountain" breaks the record for per-screen averages for any live-action movie. Ever.
7-Condoleezza Rice is shopping in Saks, I believe, during the most life-and-death moments of the Hurricane Katrina disaster, and some wonderful woman confronts her about her complete lack of awareness. Citizenship at its finest.
8-"George Bush doesn't care about black people."- Kanye West
9-"Fatal Attraction: A Greek Tragedy."
10-Madonna releases "Confessions on a Dance Floor."

Category 2: Low Point in American Culture in 2005
1-The Supreme Court nominations of John Roberts, Turkeyneck Myers and Sam Alito.
2-Hillary Swank wins her second Academy Award. Martin Scorsese? Still zero.
3-"Brownie, you're doing a hell of a job."- George W. Bush
4-Arnold Schwarzenegger (sp? who the fuck cares?) vetos a legislature-created gay marriage bill.
5-Jennifer Maniston is GQ's first ever Woman of the Year.
6-The New York City public turns on the striking union members of TWU Local 100, who are just trying to strike a blow for workers' rights against the incalculably corrupt MTA. I mean, honestly, being inconvenienced during ones commute is more important than standing up to the Enron-ization of City industries?! We're supposed to be a lefty city. Shape up. I'm disappointed in everyone who bitched about this.
7-Pope Benedict XVI.
8-"Fatal Attraction: A Greek Tragedy."
9- TomKat.
10-Two of Kevin's African-American icons, Rosa Parks and August Wilson, pass away.

Category 3: Hero of the Year 2005
1- Steven Colbert for "The Colbert Report."
2- Kanye West for "George Bush doesn't care about black people."
3- The creative team of "Brokeback Mountain."
4- Angelina Jolie for her ongoing humanitarian efforts (Also for "Mr. & Mrs. Smith").
5- Martha Stewart. Period.
6- Mackenzie Allen (Geena Davis) of "Commander in Chief."
7- Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Category 4: Villain of the Year 2005
1- George W. Bush.
2- Arnold Schwarzenegger.
3- Jennifer Aniston
4- George Pataki.
5- Pat Robertson.
6- Corey Feldman.
7- "Senator" Rick Santorum.

Please consider your votes carefully and then email your thoughtful responses to kevin.manganaro@gmail.com. We'll put up the results of everything sometime next week. To come: Leigh and I throw down about the Arts in '05. Stay tuned.

KEVIN :-)