The most amazing and insane thing ever to be on television.

There will never be another frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic like Marie Osmond.



I mean... Jesus Christ.

Bergeron,
KEVIN.

Catching Up with Kevin.

Hey all- Happy Thanksgiving Week! Who's ready for some heaping ladlefuls of taters and Tofurkey? I AM! Yay!

I love the fall.

Last night, was the 1 year anniversary of DISCO TEA, the greatest weekly gay disco bash in Manhattan. I was there. So was Rollerina. It was amazing.

But I really need to tell you about what happened on Friday night, as it's one of my great New York drinking tales. I went out for boozities with JOE. We met Roommate and Roommate's Friend for a hot second down in the East Village-y, Nolita-esque nook of town. We went into this gross, ugly gray box of a bar (god knows why), and I marched directly to the bar to order drinks. As I approached the bar, I moved a stool to get closer. In doing so, I set the stool down on the foot of this older cougar-type lady wearing a fur coat. (In a film, she would be played by the baby of Cheri Oteri and Jackie Stallone.)

[Ed. note- At this juncture, before we get into some James Frey territory, it's probably best to note that Kevin was VERY drunk while this was happening, and that the memory of it appears as in a beautiful, soft-focus dream.]

KEVIN: Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am.
COUGAR: "Ma'am"? Who're you calling ma'am? I'm not old! Call me ma'am again, and I'll kill ya!
ROOMMATE: Not if I kill him first.
COUGAR: Ha! I like you guys. Is this your girlfriend, Rude Boy?
KEVIN: Oh, no. She's just my roommate.
COUGAR: Aaah, that's too bad. I was about to offer you my A#1 sex tip.

Kevin's eyes light up like a pinball machine.

KEVIN: Oh, by all means... Do continue.
COUGAR: Lean in closer, it's a secret. I have just one word for you...

[Ed. note- I shit you not. My hand to God.]

COUGAR: ... Mice.
KEVIN: Mice?!
COUGAR: Mice.
KEVIN: Like... Do you mean, like, Richard Gere-with-a-gerbal-in-his-ass shit? Are you talking insertion?

[Ed. note- Any time that I get to ask if someone is "talking insertion," it's a good conversation.]

COUGAR: Hey, I didn't say it. You use your own imagination there, kiddo. Let your mind wander...

And that's where our encounter with Magical/Disgusting Cougar ends, as I literally spun on my heels, screamed "JOE! OH MY GOD!" and ran.

So yeah. That happened. Mice.

On behalf of Leigh and myself, we wish all of our beloved, amazing readers the happiest of Thanksgivings and the most successful of Black Fridays.

Mice,
KEVIN.
xoxo

Ode to The Peppermint Mocha

It's that time of year again. I almost forgot how much I loved them. Almost. All it took was one sip; and I was instantly angry that there isn't a Starbucks in Clinton Hill. I know, I know this sounds crazy. Who wants a big ugly chain amongst the brownstones? I do. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a Sunday Morning stroll to Tillies as much as the next girl, (where they make a more than adequate Mocha, might I add) but It's not the same. It doesn't come in a cheerful red cup. It doesn't have peppermint sprinkles. It is also not apart of my daily routine anymore, and I wish it was. In the DC Starbucks at Third and Penn, I rarely needed to order my drink, it would magically appear in my hand. (as it was generally consumed at least once, if not twice a day.) The ten block trek from my apartment to work was suddenly something to look forward to. I would not have made it out of graduate school alive if not for this drink. It was a motivator; a reason to keep typing. And now it is gone from my world. Say what you will about Starbucks, but a Grande Skim Double Peppermint Mocha (Light Whip) is a warm, caffeinated hug. I miss you, old friend.

"So, I design clothes out of my flower shop"...

The moment we've all been waiting for has arrived. A new season of Project Runway is finally underway.
OF NOTE:
There was a Santino Saturn commercial.
There is the new Bluefly.com accessory wall. I heart bluefly SO BADLY. (They have provided me with some lovely discount designer duds including a Cynthia Rowley wrap skirt that could stop traffic and my beloved Michael Kors puffy coat) Patronize them.
Nina Garcia is SO fierce. Did you watch her gaze? She's like Medusa.
Kevin & I have already picked our favorite:
CHRIS.
The man wears leopard, weighs 300 pounds and is a DELIGHT.
Onto the clothes:

I liked this. I did not like that the person who produced it chooses to call herself "Sweet P"...


This is what Strong Island had to offer. (Shape up, Missy!)



Everyone was all about this dress. I get it, the construction blah blah blah- I can't get past the "I bought this Burberry trench in Chinatown" fabric choice.



This week's Wendy Pepper Award for "How in the hell has no one said Auf Wiedersehen to you yet?!?" goes to...Elisa



Finally; my pick of the week, the aforementioned Chris. It's purple, it's pretty and you; my lazy friend, made it with leftovers:

Q: Oh, Kevin. When will you stop with your damn left-leaning blog posts?

A: When hell freezes over.

So tomorrow is the kick off for the new season of Project Runway, and after I see it, I expect I'll be able to speak about precious little else. Before the new PR monopolizes all of my remaining brain cells, I did want to share an observation or two about the current IATSE Local One stagehand strike. My father is a union member, as is my uncle and as was my late grandfather, and while I would sooner stab my eye out that demonstrate my total lack of upper body strength eight times a week for years on end, I am very proud of my family's blue collar theatrical dynasty.

Anyway, in lieu of getting preachy, please enjoy the following parade of correct opinions:


Solidarity,
KEVIN.

I can almost see the Loreal Paris Makeup Room in my mind's eye...

It's really more about Bill's costume choice than anything else...

Days To Myself

Hey, champs- So I haven't been to work since Halloween (You'll find one photo from Halloween below, with no explanation... just take it for what it is). No, I didn't get fired- not yet, anyway. I'd taken days off to accompany Roommate on a trip to Middle America, but she ended up taking a heartfelt journey of self-discovery all by herself, which is totally fine with me. I've just been hanging out, spending some time on Long Island, spending some time working on some writing projects, seeing some great theatre, and eating really good pizza with Leigh. So it's been heavenly, actually. Since work has been so busy, it was nice to just spend some time collecting myself. After all, we all need to be comforted now and again.

But get this, though. Since I've been spending a lot of time out and about in my neighborhood in the middle of workdays, I've noticed something: Fort Greene is a literal hotbed of eccentric old men. And I don't mean, like, bums or vagrants of a degenerate nature. There are, like, old retired gentlemen of leisure who spend their days sitting on stoops, drinking coffee, yelling nonsensical things at passersby. It's really the least-threatening thing ever, and in fact it's really charming. I think I might like to become one of these older gentlemen. (Except they have no teeth, and I'd like to skip that part.) But they're so cool! I considered joining them on the benches outside the Chinese laundry to, I imagine, discuss the urgent matters of the day.

This is an acheiveable, sane goal, right? I can't tell anymore. Nobody should let me stay in an apartment by myself for five straight days. I get all up in my own head.

Here's the promised photo:
Insane, isn't it? I love trannies.

XOXO,
Kevin.

"I realize that when I met you at the turkey curry buffet, I was unforgivably rude, and wearing a reindeer jumper"

Jen and I spent Fri evening awash in sentimentality, reminiscing about all things Muhlenberg; from the day we became friends at a Guster concert to ball in the Poconos and everything in between. I can't explain exactly why, but for some reason Bridget Jones has become a sort of collegiate touchstone for the 'berg girls and I. Missing your college friends? I'm sure a movie which takes place in London will help. The mere appearance of Colin Firth suddenly stirs up warm fuzzy memories of Pennsylvania winters and frat parties all rolled into one. If one of us was having boy trouble, or a bad day or it was too cold to trek to O'Malleys, we'd inevitably end up en masse in someones room or apt, sipping Sutter Home White Zinfandel and watching Hugh Grant write naughty emails- and it made everything better; if only for an hour and a half. Years later, even though most of us are miles from Allentown, it's nice to know it still has the same effect.

UGH.

#@%* , is it really November?
Kids, I'm really sorry- el blog was truly a beast of burden last month. I'm battling the world's strongest bronchitis and Kevin is uber busy. But the blog marches on. Here, enjoy this Kid Nation article from Our friends at New York Magazine: (thanks Kate)

Overnights

11/ 1/07

2:25 PM

‘Kid Nation’: The Drinking Game

Courtesy of CBS

CBS must have realized that all the Nielsen families were out trick-or-treating, because last night they chose to air the most boring episode of Kid Nation so far (and to reveal the completely anticlimactic "face burning" incident — it was Divad and she lived). The highlight had to be Sophia making fake vomit in a large pot and throwing ten buffalo nickels in the bottom to see if the other kids were desperate enough to stick their hands in to fish the money out. In a perfect metaphor for reality TV, they were. Also, Divad made campaign signs for the gold star, but lost out to newly seen home-schooled kid Nathan, who told his mother he could use the money for "college, boarding school, candy!"

We're halfway through the series, and it's time for a Kid Nation drinking game. If you don't drink, drink root beer out of shot glasses. That might be a good idea anyway, because this is going to get anyone good and drunk. Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments.

Take a drink every time:

Taylor says "Deal with it!"

A kid mentions George W. Bush in a positive light.

Someone uses a word that is above an eighth-grade vocabulary level.

Someone cries.

Anyone mentions the gold star. Or that it's worth its weight in gold — literally.

A dramatic confrontation or disaster is resolved in two minutes.

Sophia sounds like someone you could actually hang out with now. (Two drinks if Sophia mentions "stupid people" in general.)

You see a kid who has yet to speak on the show. (Two drinks if that kid speaks.)

A kid who has been prominent on the show is not shown at all or barely shown (à la Taylor last night).

You see Lauren's lip scab.

Or Greg's chin scab.

Or Guylan with purple wine-drinker's lips.

A kid mentions his or her family.

One of these words or phrases is used: Upper Class, Merchant Class, Cooking Class, Laborer, Class, Blue, Red, Green or Yellow, Latrine, Pioneer/s.

Olivia says something bitchy.

A kid drinks bleach (God, we hope they show this soon).

Zach cheers.

Jared says something weird and strange and awesome. (Two drinks if it's while wearing a pimp costume like last night.)

Greg bullies.

Taylor screams.

Alex is shown being adorable.

Anyone hugs anyone else.

And take three drinks if a kid leaves.

Next week: The kids have a talent show. Blah blah blah OMG GREG WILL BE WEARING A DRESS: