Ben Kennedy is hot. Last night, I surfed the site meter and came across to his blog. He's my type. But again, I probably freak him out if he ever comes across my blog once again. Maybe it is my loss, maybe not. Who is he? Well, surf it away and find him. Remember this -- I saw him 1st.
Some people wanted to know why I preferred Kerry over Bush. It is all about common sense. Lambykins wondered why I preferred Kerry over Bush in terms of the long-term goals. Two words: Supreme Court.
It is no secret that three judges are contemplating about retiring in the next four years. It is imperative and critical that we have reasonable judges to rule the decisions that affected the individuals and groups' rights. We cannot permit Bush to install the conservative judges that supported his right-wing views. That is utterly unfathomable thing to do. By permitting Bush to do this, we set our country 50 years back in the past, especially with the minorities' rights.
We need to put the so-called "activist" (whom Bush once called the Massachusetts Supreme Court) judges on the panel where they can rule the decisions based on what the Constitution is all about, not these right-wing zealots' desires or fantasies. My rights are not my privileges. It shall not be taken away by these people like Bush. By putting Kerry in White House, the common sense shall prevail, especially when it comes to install the judges on the Supreme Court.
R-
Monday, October 25, 2004
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Morgan Spurlock Is The One
I watched the DVD film this morning, "Super-Size Me!" Interesting film. Yeah, the documentary film is riveting, to say the least. But Morgan Spurlock is cute, charming with beautiful eyes. Very easy to look at. In fact, when he smirked and stared at the camera, I go insane. Loved his All-American underwear. The way he smiles, it made me want to hump him right now. Oh, man.
Last night was great. Merritt and I went to Titan Bar and the place had Deafies outnumbered the hearing customers all night long. It was fun. Several dramas ensued, of course. Guess who I saw at the Titan Bar? Berna(rd)! Rosey! Larry! Cliff! Billy!
Suffice to say, I nearly caused a pandemonium in the bathroom with Rosey witnessing after tossing a wet paper towel into the bathroom stall with two guys inside. Let's leave this at that.
Shortly, Merritt and I sneaked to a new bar called Halo which I heard that it is very popular in DuPont Circle, the only bar in the District that does not allow smoking at all. The bar rocks. I was impressed.
Later, some guys went to Velvet. Not my thing. Did not want to pop an X and go on a trip. Nah.
Now, it's time to head back to Manhattan.
I had been thinking a lot about few things, especially with the long-term goals. I am determined to do something interesting. Will follow up on this subject sooner than you think.
Cheers,
R-
Last night was great. Merritt and I went to Titan Bar and the place had Deafies outnumbered the hearing customers all night long. It was fun. Several dramas ensued, of course. Guess who I saw at the Titan Bar? Berna(rd)! Rosey! Larry! Cliff! Billy!
Suffice to say, I nearly caused a pandemonium in the bathroom with Rosey witnessing after tossing a wet paper towel into the bathroom stall with two guys inside. Let's leave this at that.
Shortly, Merritt and I sneaked to a new bar called Halo which I heard that it is very popular in DuPont Circle, the only bar in the District that does not allow smoking at all. The bar rocks. I was impressed.
Later, some guys went to Velvet. Not my thing. Did not want to pop an X and go on a trip. Nah.
Now, it's time to head back to Manhattan.
I had been thinking a lot about few things, especially with the long-term goals. I am determined to do something interesting. Will follow up on this subject sooner than you think.
Cheers,
R-
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Our Thoughts
I had a long dinner with Nanc last night about things in life. Basically, we laughed, laughed and laughed -- in fact, we were talking about a deaf guy who was arrested and prosecuted for sexual assault. I mentioned that he also has a photo of himself on state sex offender's list. Then few minutes later, the same guy we were talking about entered the restaurant.
We were horrified that we were talking about the same person! They sat right next to us. The fates can be so cruel, sometimes. Regardless of what happened, Nanc and I had a good conversation. Caught up with everything else.
Saw many old friends at Gallaudet. But I must admit that there are so many unfamiliar faces which is sad. It is a sign of changes. Time changed. People changed. Life moves on. Oh, I must add that the neighborhood is no longer considered as a ghetto. The area is very vibrant. Very alive.
Merritt is right. He snapped, "Did you notice that many deaf gay guys who are very good-looking tend to be uneducated, stupid and pathetic?" I thought about it -- he was right. In general, I also noticed that as well. I also mentioned to him that hearing gay guys tend to chase after these guys because the uneducated deaf guys tend to be passive, thus making it much easier for the hearing guys to intimidate and control. He nodded, we sighed.
We went to the house party hosted by gay guys -- had a good time. Blah, blah, blah and blah. I ended up getting drunk. Had to retch outside. There were few dramas -- few deaf straight guys were escorted out of the party after making a loud, raucous homophobic statements. Much has changed, so much has remained the same.
Tonight, as I am waiting for Merritt to complete his hour-long (or two?) make-up to get ready for the Eye Party at Titan Bar. I look forward to see old friends as well as few enemies. Chalk it up for another night of drama in Washington.
Oh, one funny thing ... Mark, being drunk and aloof at the same time, delivered the funniest word last night by accident. Mark was wondering where Berna is, as he asked me, "Where is Bernard?"
I flinched and nearly shot the beer out of my nose.
R-
We were horrified that we were talking about the same person! They sat right next to us. The fates can be so cruel, sometimes. Regardless of what happened, Nanc and I had a good conversation. Caught up with everything else.
Saw many old friends at Gallaudet. But I must admit that there are so many unfamiliar faces which is sad. It is a sign of changes. Time changed. People changed. Life moves on. Oh, I must add that the neighborhood is no longer considered as a ghetto. The area is very vibrant. Very alive.
Merritt is right. He snapped, "Did you notice that many deaf gay guys who are very good-looking tend to be uneducated, stupid and pathetic?" I thought about it -- he was right. In general, I also noticed that as well. I also mentioned to him that hearing gay guys tend to chase after these guys because the uneducated deaf guys tend to be passive, thus making it much easier for the hearing guys to intimidate and control. He nodded, we sighed.
We went to the house party hosted by gay guys -- had a good time. Blah, blah, blah and blah. I ended up getting drunk. Had to retch outside. There were few dramas -- few deaf straight guys were escorted out of the party after making a loud, raucous homophobic statements. Much has changed, so much has remained the same.
Tonight, as I am waiting for Merritt to complete his hour-long (or two?) make-up to get ready for the Eye Party at Titan Bar. I look forward to see old friends as well as few enemies. Chalk it up for another night of drama in Washington.
Oh, one funny thing ... Mark, being drunk and aloof at the same time, delivered the funniest word last night by accident. Mark was wondering where Berna is, as he asked me, "Where is Bernard?"
I flinched and nearly shot the beer out of my nose.
R-
Friday, October 22, 2004
What A Thursday!
I arrived in The District's Chinatown section at 9:20 PM. Thank God for these little pagers, be it sidekick, blackberry et al -- they practically helped me and Deafies tremendously in communicating to work out the last-minute changes.
Off to Green Lantern with Manny, Joey and Mike -- it was good to be back. Saw some familiar guys -- don't they ever leave the town? Darn, I hadn't seen the fool, Rob. I'd LOVE to 005 him. Oh, well. I get to see many old friends and familiar faces. Toby, Masa, Lee, Mark, Vic, Richard and many more. I was bit stunned when I came to the counter -- the bartender still knew my drink after a year of absence at Green Lantern! Some old things never change.
Buck bolted in the bar and saw me, he rolled his eyes and said, "My god! Ricky Never Dies!" That was funny line. Thanks, Buck.
After we took advantage of free drinks at Green Lantern, I was bit buzzed -- I was talking to Manny, I think. Then during the 'talk', my hand knocked the Bud Lite bottle off the table. It was smashed completely. Ahh, time to flee the bar -- the group emigrated to Apex where I used an old college ID to get in for free. So typical of a cheapskate, is it?
I ran into Kiki, he looked fabulous. I ran into some people that I knew but do not know their names. There were about 80 to 100 Deaf people running amok the bar/club.
After that, we dominated SoHo. I was famished -- then crashed at Merritt's palace. God, I am still famished. I'm heading down to Metro and ride the red line to the new station -- New York Avenue / Gallaudet Metro Station. That is something to see, is it?
Cheers,
R-
Off to Green Lantern with Manny, Joey and Mike -- it was good to be back. Saw some familiar guys -- don't they ever leave the town? Darn, I hadn't seen the fool, Rob. I'd LOVE to 005 him. Oh, well. I get to see many old friends and familiar faces. Toby, Masa, Lee, Mark, Vic, Richard and many more. I was bit stunned when I came to the counter -- the bartender still knew my drink after a year of absence at Green Lantern! Some old things never change.
Buck bolted in the bar and saw me, he rolled his eyes and said, "My god! Ricky Never Dies!" That was funny line. Thanks, Buck.
After we took advantage of free drinks at Green Lantern, I was bit buzzed -- I was talking to Manny, I think. Then during the 'talk', my hand knocked the Bud Lite bottle off the table. It was smashed completely. Ahh, time to flee the bar -- the group emigrated to Apex where I used an old college ID to get in for free. So typical of a cheapskate, is it?
I ran into Kiki, he looked fabulous. I ran into some people that I knew but do not know their names. There were about 80 to 100 Deaf people running amok the bar/club.
After that, we dominated SoHo. I was famished -- then crashed at Merritt's palace. God, I am still famished. I'm heading down to Metro and ride the red line to the new station -- New York Avenue / Gallaudet Metro Station. That is something to see, is it?
Cheers,
R-
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Off to the District! Be afraid, be very afraid.
Just finished the paperworks at work, am heading back home to pick up the bag -- then off to Chinatown for the bus en route to Washington. As someone would say, "Onward, Lord Emperor!"
I feel I should include something about my Hrandparents. When I was 4 or so, my parents took us all to Big Stone Gap (Trudy, try to find the town), Virginia -- a tiny town of 4,000 pocketed deeply in the mountainous region of the Appalachian mountains. When we arrived very late, I saw an elderly woman with white hair standing on the proch, inhaling the cigarette. Who's that freak, I wonder.
My mother said, "That is your grandma!"
"But my grandma is deaf, she is in Richmond -- not her!"
"you got two -- all grandchildren has two sets of grandparents."
I stared with wary. Oh, fuck. She cannot sign. She only talked with her voice. In the kitchen, I could feel the vibrations where she boomed with her voice, yelling at my father who nodded. Then she grabbed my chin and made me look at her while she talked to me. I didn't understand what she was trying to say.
Mom stood behind her and said, "Just nod, just nod."
I nodded, she lets me go. That Hrandma is total weirdo and bitch.
Later, she walked around the house (I just visited the home few years ago -- it's so fuckin' tiny!) -- and I followed her around. Later, she was in the bathroom staring at the mirror. I crept in and looked at her with curiosity.
Then I saw her pulling her teeth out.
Oh, fuck. I wailed and ran to my mom's arms, terrorized by the fact that my Hrandma pulled her teeth out in very casual way. Mom frantically explained that Hrandma has dentures. Dad was laughing hysterically. Hrandma was horrified and hurt that I freaked out by that.
Oh, I was only 4. Give me a break!
R-
I feel I should include something about my Hrandparents. When I was 4 or so, my parents took us all to Big Stone Gap (Trudy, try to find the town), Virginia -- a tiny town of 4,000 pocketed deeply in the mountainous region of the Appalachian mountains. When we arrived very late, I saw an elderly woman with white hair standing on the proch, inhaling the cigarette. Who's that freak, I wonder.
My mother said, "That is your grandma!"
"But my grandma is deaf, she is in Richmond -- not her!"
"you got two -- all grandchildren has two sets of grandparents."
I stared with wary. Oh, fuck. She cannot sign. She only talked with her voice. In the kitchen, I could feel the vibrations where she boomed with her voice, yelling at my father who nodded. Then she grabbed my chin and made me look at her while she talked to me. I didn't understand what she was trying to say.
Mom stood behind her and said, "Just nod, just nod."
I nodded, she lets me go. That Hrandma is total weirdo and bitch.
Later, she walked around the house (I just visited the home few years ago -- it's so fuckin' tiny!) -- and I followed her around. Later, she was in the bathroom staring at the mirror. I crept in and looked at her with curiosity.
Then I saw her pulling her teeth out.
Oh, fuck. I wailed and ran to my mom's arms, terrorized by the fact that my Hrandma pulled her teeth out in very casual way. Mom frantically explained that Hrandma has dentures. Dad was laughing hysterically. Hrandma was horrified and hurt that I freaked out by that.
Oh, I was only 4. Give me a break!
R-
My Drandpa Never Spat -- Drandma Would Slay Him
When I was a kid, my parents would take me to see my grandparents which is about two miles down the street from my home. My mother's parents are pretty close with us all more than my father's parents do. See? My mom's parents = Deaf. My dad's parents = hearing. See the math? We usually see my father's parents once or twice per year. But mom's parents, thousands per year.
Anyway, when we visited my Drandparents (I did it the 'D' to identify who's who -- Hrandparents pointed to my father's parents, ok?) on Bloomingdale Avenue. When we walked into the living room, there are two television sets on a large drawer designed primarily for the living room -- these two TV sets are strictly designed and enforced for my Drandma and Drandpa. The one on the left was my Drandpa's access, the right belonged to my Drandma. Often I'd see Drandpa watching the Atlanta Braves and I could see his blood boiling when the Braves fell behind, but he rarely showed his emotions. Rarely.
As for Drandma, she loves her remote control, flipping the channels again, again and again to a point where sometimes it distracted Drandpa on the left and he bemoaned her to stop distracting him. But they sat separately -- one on the far left, one on the far right. The space between these two can hold maybe 3 or four persons, though.
I normally sat on the right because I find the baseball games to be extremely boring.
Which brings me to this point -- last night, I watched the BoSox-Yanks game out of curiosity -- yes, I flipped to other channels at times but mainly, I watched the game. I noticed something interesting.
When the camera came up close with a player's face, he often spat. When it spotted another player, he spat. Another, spat. There, spat. This, spat. Over there, spat. God, everyone spat.
From the umpires to the players to the managers, they spat, spat, spat and spat. Be it Jeter, Rodriguez, Damon (hottie!) and many more -- they still spat.
In the dugout, you could see lots of guys spitting -- I wonder what it's like to be in the dugout right after the game with all of these disgusting gooey on the floor. What is up with the spitting? Is it a fad? Is it a macho thing to do that in baseball?
I also noticed that the managers tend to eat or drink lots when the camera focused on one? There is always something in their mouths.
What the fuck is going on?
God, it is making me nervous!
But bravo to BoSox for coming up with a win. Let the riots begin.
R-
Anyway, when we visited my Drandparents (I did it the 'D' to identify who's who -- Hrandparents pointed to my father's parents, ok?) on Bloomingdale Avenue. When we walked into the living room, there are two television sets on a large drawer designed primarily for the living room -- these two TV sets are strictly designed and enforced for my Drandma and Drandpa. The one on the left was my Drandpa's access, the right belonged to my Drandma. Often I'd see Drandpa watching the Atlanta Braves and I could see his blood boiling when the Braves fell behind, but he rarely showed his emotions. Rarely.
As for Drandma, she loves her remote control, flipping the channels again, again and again to a point where sometimes it distracted Drandpa on the left and he bemoaned her to stop distracting him. But they sat separately -- one on the far left, one on the far right. The space between these two can hold maybe 3 or four persons, though.
I normally sat on the right because I find the baseball games to be extremely boring.
Which brings me to this point -- last night, I watched the BoSox-Yanks game out of curiosity -- yes, I flipped to other channels at times but mainly, I watched the game. I noticed something interesting.
When the camera came up close with a player's face, he often spat. When it spotted another player, he spat. Another, spat. There, spat. This, spat. Over there, spat. God, everyone spat.
From the umpires to the players to the managers, they spat, spat, spat and spat. Be it Jeter, Rodriguez, Damon (hottie!) and many more -- they still spat.
In the dugout, you could see lots of guys spitting -- I wonder what it's like to be in the dugout right after the game with all of these disgusting gooey on the floor. What is up with the spitting? Is it a fad? Is it a macho thing to do that in baseball?
I also noticed that the managers tend to eat or drink lots when the camera focused on one? There is always something in their mouths.
What the fuck is going on?
God, it is making me nervous!
But bravo to BoSox for coming up with a win. Let the riots begin.
R-
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
The Preparation
I had been preparing the trip back to the District. This weekend is Homecoming for Gallaudet. I probably will not attend the homecoming events at all. I'm too old for that. I'm gonna be there to meet friends and mellow around and see what's up with the city. You know, I am secretly hoping that Rob, the 'taken' guy whom I had a fling with last year, will be at a certain bar on a certain night so that I can see how he reacts to my presence ... long after I spilled the Truth to his lover that he cheated on him with me!
No, I won't go to BlogjamDC. I will not caught dead in that place. A major ugh! That 'BlogjamDC' made me think of something -- we need to organize a group of DeafBloggers to gather and meet each other, that would be cool, is it?
I need to wash some clothes before I hit the sack -- then work, then zoom to the bus chartered by gibberish comments spewed by none other than Chinese folks. The Chinatown bus services are hilarious -- when you approach them with your luggage, there are 5 or 6 Chinese women screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to sell the tickets for us to head down to DC. I feel like a king, courting their desperate pleas. Well, Chinese folks drove the bus badly, but I cannot help it if they're so cheap to ride back and forth.
Cheers,
R-
No, I won't go to BlogjamDC. I will not caught dead in that place. A major ugh! That 'BlogjamDC' made me think of something -- we need to organize a group of DeafBloggers to gather and meet each other, that would be cool, is it?
I need to wash some clothes before I hit the sack -- then work, then zoom to the bus chartered by gibberish comments spewed by none other than Chinese folks. The Chinatown bus services are hilarious -- when you approach them with your luggage, there are 5 or 6 Chinese women screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to sell the tickets for us to head down to DC. I feel like a king, courting their desperate pleas. Well, Chinese folks drove the bus badly, but I cannot help it if they're so cheap to ride back and forth.
Cheers,
R-
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)