By Jeff Walsh
Scott Silverman is gay, despite his unkempt hair, T-shirt and jeans (which runs contrary to his living near San Francisco's Castro district for five years), and despite references in his stand-up comedy act about how much he wishes he were a smart, hot woman like Shirley Manson from the band Garbage.
By Jeff Walsh
Her book is called "The Accidental Activist," and Candace Gingrich is making the most of this accident. Her book tracks her Speaker of the House brother Newt like a lesbian version of the documentary Roger & Me, in which a laid off auto worker tried to meet the head of General Motors. But for Candace, she actually meets her brother. He doesn't say anything of merit, though. Just flip remarks about her busy speaking schedule and an offer for a face to face meeting he wouldn't honor.
By Jeff Walsh
I was at a loss when I interviewed Dan Renzi, this season's hot young gay guy on Real World V, taped in Miami. Having just moved to San Francisco, I don't yet have a TV. But I have always been a fan of the show since its inception, despite the constant debate on whether it's actually 'real' or just bullshit. Who cares? We all know how it works, believe what you want.
And no, this is not photocopying of poRn...JB....
I went to a party on Saturday night. While I was gone, my mother, by stealth, found my diary and stories I
So today, I come to work, and find myself presented with a brand new corner cube. nice eh? and all it took was a trailor trash hoochie to sexually harass me and fuck up my old work station. nice. why can't I be sexually Harassed by attractive men?
I am also recovering nicely from the Testicle slashing incident. which from now on will be refered to as "section E" which Jules has coined it.
Well, last week I returned to Woody's for the first time in a few months. I've lost a little weight since the last time and I donned a new shirt that made me look even thinner, so I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. I mean, I'm not hideous; surely someone would find me attractive enough to dance with me, and I was in the mood for some fun.
My friends and I decided to go at the last minute; the night actually started as a gay bowling night, but after an hour of some really bad bowling we decided that we should go somewhere that was more suited to our strengths. We packed my car with two of my girl friends (one a lesbian, one straight), a girl and guy from the gay union whom I didn't know very well before then, and me. After a good amount of time listening to various bad club songs and me singing along to Cher (whom I LOVE because she sings in my range), we finally started seeing the city in the distance. That was when I sort of freaked because I've never driven in the city before, but with the help of my friends and the fact that there were almost no cars on the roads because it was late on a Wednesday night, we finally maneuvered to a parking garage and got out. Then we did the usual "take only what you need: license, " discard thing, and we left the car to walk to the club in the bitter cold without jackets because we weren't sure if there was a coat check or not. The streets were very different from the way they were in October. There were no cute boy couples walking with their arms around each other or groups of guys laughing loudly and greeting the friends they ran into on thre street; the streets were very empty right up to the club. We finally got there, paid, and entered.
snow day, snow day, Linds doesn't have French today...
I think about Chris intermittently through the day, but I mostly think of him at night before I close my eyes and try to sleep in earnest. I don