Archive for the 'Potpourri' Category

Brits out U.S. footballers

Published by Rob on October 30, 2007 in Potpourri. 4 Comments

A British study has reported that more than 1/3 of American football players admitted to having sexual relations with other men. Of course, since the research was British, it’s hard to know if they’re surprised at how many or how few yank footballers are rogering each other in the shower.

The researchers seem to have defined “sexual relations” pretty broadly, as “acts intended to sexually arouse other men, ranging from kissing to mutual masturbation and oral sex.” This definition could include two frat guys getting overly friendly in the mosh pit at a Sum 41 concert, for all we know.

Sigh. If the football players at my high school hadn’t been no-necked trogs, and if my college had had a football team, this study would be a real turn-on.

Tom Brady, you’re going to have bear the weight of most of the, uh, celebratory response to this important research breakthrough. I don’t care how many babymamas you have.

Over one-third of former American footballers had sexual relations with men, study claims [Science Daily]

Image source [Towleroad]

Obsoxssion

Published by Jordan on October 29, 2007 in Potpourri and Sports. 2 Comments

ellsbury_bed
Okay, I know there wasn’t much to get excited about this World Series. A 4-game sweep isn’t fun for anyone except my liver and my social life, even if it’s your team manhandling a bunch of mountain dwellers who had no business being in the World Series to begin with.

But I managed to find a few things to get exited about. And here they are in reverse-order of obsessionocity.

Jason Varitek
The gentlest of the Sox’ three cuddly basebears (the others being Mike Lowell and Kevin Youkilis, of course). So big and brawny that you’d need a belayer to climb him. And let it be known that not only is he team captain, but he bats both ways. If you know what I mean. Oh, and he kind of looks like a bat swinging Colin Farrell, no? Not that Colin hasn’t shown us how he can swing a bat…

pedroiaDustin Pedroia
Okay, he’s not from Massachusetts, but something about this miniature baseball player (5′9″!) just screams of Lowell townie. And that’s precisely why he’s so adorable. That and the gargantuan schnoz that somehow manages to be beak-like and up-turned at the same time. And who doesn’t like a guy whose nostrils you can see up from any angle?

ellsJacoby Ellsbury
My mad crush on this young rookie developed organically throughout the last two series. It’s now reached a full-blown obsession that has hijacked my mind and prevented me from thinking about much else. First, he’s a fucking good ball player. Second, he’s got just enough gay affect to make me nervous for him when I think about Dustin Pedroia-related shower antics. I imagine he showers in board shorts.

Apparently Ellbury has a girlfriend, but then again, so does A-Rod. But one thing’s for sure, he can catch my fly ball any day.

(Thanks to Queerty for the photo montage that has prevented me from getting any work done today. And I’ll also credit the original source for Queerty, too: the ladies over at Ladies… that put together the alarm clock photo in, sadly, photoshop.)

Craig-proof bathrooms and other pressing issues

Published by Jordan on September 30, 2007 in Potpourri and Rants. 2 Comments

bathroomThe slew of recent gay sex scandals has recently brought a disproportionate amount of attention to the world of public men’s rooms. I mean, because the real problem here is that the construction of public bathrooms just makes it too damn easy to have the homosex. Apparently a nice married gentleman that enters the bathroom to, say, blow his nose might notice the hole in the bathroom stall and think, “Hey, I bet I could fit my penis through that hole.”

And now, the public outcry for fag-safe public bathroom stalls begins. This is fascinating to me. There’s Jim Naugle’s plan for doors that automatically spring open if you’ve been in there longer than the standard time it takes to drop the kids off at the pool. Then there’s the MSP airport’s plan to install floor-to-ceiling fortress walls between stalls, making foot stomping and hand gestures things that are only used by Mummenshanz.

We here at the PEN15 Club don’t think automatic doors and tall walls are going far enough, so we’ve developed our own list of things to keep our bathrooms safe:

  • Don’t patch gloryholes. Just rig the other side with something unpleasant to put your penis in, such as: a box of clawed kittens, tapioca pudding, something knitted by a grandma, or a vagina
  • Play “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls” on a loop to remind all of the “straight” bathroom patrons how gay they really are
  • Toilet seat covers that resemble Perez Hilton’s thighs
  • Posted signs with alternate, more innocent meanings for all hand signals that may be used to illicit sex: “Oh! You want me to make running water noises to help you?” or “I see you’re asking for a courtesy flush.”
  • Change all “family” bathrooms into gay sex bathrooms. Because, really, what’s weirder?

And of course, the most obvious solution…

  • One sign: NO REPUBLICANS ALLOWED

Duggar dugout distends doubly

Published by Rob on August 3, 2007 in Gunts, News and Potpourri. 5 Comments

070802_duggars_hmed_4p.jpgGod has blessed The Duggars Inc., an Arkansas faith-based nonprofit…er, family…with its 17th child, who was born Thursday. You may recall Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar (he’s an Arkansas legislator) from their numerous TV appearances, in which they revel in the miracle of unprotected heterosexual sex and beg for donations.

The Duggars - who live largely tax-free by claiming their home as a church - anoint all of their wombfruit with names beginning with the letter J, so little #17 is named Jennifer (wait…one of their children is named “Jinger,” yet they hadn’t gotten around to “Jennifer” yet?). We can’t imagine why the letter J is so appealing. Maybe they’re J. Lo fans, and will be going en masse to see La Lopez’s new blow-pus, El Cantante, this weekend.

I really can’t add anything to the Duggar discourse that hasn’t already been said over at the Datalounge (home of the classic “Somebody needs to tell her it’s a vagina, not a clown car” remark, upon the news of Michelle’s pregnancy), so here’s a highlight from there:

17 kids and she had a 30 minute delivery? At this point she just has a waterslide attached to her womb.

So, when Jim Bob fucks her is there any sensation at all, for either of them? After the first half dozen kids, or so, it’s gotta be like the Holland Tunnel up in there.

Couldn’t have put it better myself. Praise Jesus. Here’s hoping at least 1.7 of the young ‘uns are gay.

Couple welcomes 17th child [MSNBC]
Couple welcomes 17th child - and wants more [Datalounge]

It’s time.

Published by Jordan on June 23, 2007 in Club News and Potpourri. 8 Comments

snuffHi friends. Jordan here. I know I keep threatening to actually give Rob a hand in running this joint, but I’ve found it increasingly difficult to find opportunities to write with my new work situation. And frankly, there’s a bigger problem than my schedule: living so far away from Rob. Truth be told, not only is he the greatest guy I know, but he’s also my comedic muse. For serious. I’m remarkably less clever without being able to suckle on the teat of wit and wisdom that is Rob. We even tried breast pumps and FedEx and it just wasn’t the same; something happens to Rob’s funny-milk when it’s exposed to jet fuel that turns it into something that might as well have dripped out of Dane Cook.

Too far? Too far.

But dammitall, I’m not throwing in the towel. Last night I saw Kathy Griffin do a two and a half hour set at the Gibson Amphitheater. My sides still hurt – from the laughing, not the sharp, flailing elbows of the surrounding gays. Oh yeah, the guy to my right was “straight,” which he insisted on exclaiming multiple times throughout the evening. I wonder if he felt like I did that time I was kidnapped and forced to watch “Everybody Loves Raymond.” My point is, if Kathy can turn out a killer (and what I presume to be mostly fresh) show night after night, I can write a few schlocky posts about the gay news and my new celebrity neighbors for y’all.

So where to start? All of our favorite topics (The View, TR Knight, Meg Ryan, Anderson Cooper, etc.) have been co-opted by the regular media and are probably wearing thin with you. But who/what is the new paradigm of ridiculousness?

Oh! And by this time next week, Rob will be here in LA visiting me, which not only means a fantastic photo gallery is coming your way, but I’ll also be able to stockpile and freeze a bunch of the funny to keep this bitch hummin’.

Don’t tell me you didn’t notice too…

Published by Jordan on April 17, 2007 in News and Potpourri. 6 Comments

zach_vtOkay, I’m insensitive. To this day, I claim the real tragedy of 9/11 was that I cracked a tooth in half on my tongue ring while eating French fries as our country was attacked (this was before freedom fries, appropriately). I was the one who wanted Howard K. Stern to be Danielynn’s daddy only so I could believe Larry Birkhead was incapable of impregnating a woman on account of homosexuality [Update: I was half right]. And when the boatload of strapping Brits was held in Iran, I may have secretly been hoping that they’d keep the guys long enough for a little bit of televised nudity-related humiliation.

Really, a heart of cold, dead steel sits lifeless inside my chest.

So it should come as no surprise that I spent the day mourning the victims of the VT shootings… and fantasizing about the CNN-proclaimed VT shooting hero (article), Zach Petkewicz (video). He and a fellow classmate – a secret lover, I imagine – barricaded the door to the classroom, keeping the gunman out (hey, did you hear the gunman was a loner?). In his four-minute interview by an inept CNN reporter, our hero managed to 1) be adorable, 2) have adorably incorrect grammar, 3) deflect flattery, 4) speak clearly, 5) and appear to be somewhat shy. Basically the five things that it takes for me to dig my fingernails dangerously far into my inner thighs.

And on top of it all, he cries! I mean, of course, any human being in his position would be crying, but he does it in the most heartbreakingly sincere and touching way that I all but lost it at work. Sexually. I’d slide across sandpaper to drink those tears.

So, Zach Petkewicz, here’s to you. For saving 11 lives and making mine just lust a little bit more fraught with longing. Which is good, I assure you.

How not to advertise to gays

Published by Jordan on March 24, 2007 in Features, Potpourri and Rants. 21 Comments

gay ad

Click on this photo to get the full effect.

Now, I understand that the tome of gay-directed advertising isn’t exactly anything to brag about. There are a few golden moments (and the Commercial Closet does a fantastic job of cataloging them), but for the most part, we’re reduced to shirtless, hairless, beaded necklace wearing men walking along a P-town beach, sometimes with a reptile thrown carelessly over the shoulder. No matter the product. Most of the time, the message is something along the lines of, “Despite your AIDS, our obscenely expensive drug will help you do this!”

I’ve learned not to expect much from the drug companies or the pop and pop B&Bs with low ad budgets and even lower creative inspiration.

But when an ad monolith such as Pepsi devises something so terribly insulting that I virtually can’t get any work done, I’ve got to say something. Take a look at this ad for Diet Pepsi. And if you’re not outraged, allow me to tell you why you should be.

The Backstory
What you’re looking at is a picture of an old Diet Pepsi ad attached to someone’s refrigerator. Closer inspection reveals that the ad on the fridge appeared in Out magazine in April of 2005… on page 24. This led me to believe that the ad is fake, recreated for this new ad, because when’s the last time you saw a print ad in a magazine with a page number on it?

I was wrong. This ad did appear in 2005 (sans page number). And even then, it’s headline “Number of Diet Pepsi six packs consumed a week to keep this ’six pack’: 2″ sucked. Is Pepsi trying to suggest that drinking Diet Pepsi will actually give a guy a six pack? All I know is that I’m more bloated than Al Gore after a single Diet Pepsi.

Continue reading ‘How not to advertise to gays’

Win a date with the lad Vanderbilt

Published by Jordan on February 20, 2007 in AC:Crazy, Celebs, News and Potpourri. 4 Comments

andiecooper$21,000 can buy you a bare bones Volvo. It can buy 140 iPod nanos. It can even buy you 1,050 premium bedazzlers. Or, if you’re one lucky British homosexualist, it can buy you the world’s most awkward gay date. And if you ask me, if the date is meant to make notorious vagina connoisseur Anderson Cooper sweat bullets in his powder pink necktie, then it might just be worth giving up the Volvo.

Yet someone in the Cooper Camp seemed to forget that auctioning off a date with one of America’s most sought after silver-haired bottoms (right after Richard Gere and right before Tim Gunn) at an AIDS benefit, might draw the attention of some, uh, wealthy gays.

Well, British bachelor Oliver Hicks (could he have been named anything else?!) has won Andie’s arm for an evening of white knuckles, clenched teeth, and buttered buns. And also dinner.

Can you imagine how the dinner (or, as I’ve imagined it, brunch) conversation will go? I can. And will:

Anderson: So, you, like… uhh… supporting AIDS?

Oliver: Yes, um, it’s killed nearly a dozen of my friends. As you know…

Anderson: NO! No I don’t know. Don’t know what you’re talking about. I can only, uh, imagine. Oh my god, they have sweet potato fries here.

Oliver: Yeah, I doubt they serve them at brunch through. How did you know I wanted our date to be a brunch date anyway?

Anderson: Well, when else would we have… NO! I mean, uh, one of my PAs is gay. He suggested you might be most comfortable at brunch. Personally, I’m a lunch date kinda guy myself. I find it puts the ladies at ease. And there’s nothing like a Mich Ultra at lunchtime to put my nerves at ease before a broadcast.

Oliver: Oh, a beer man too, eh?

Anderson: Oh yes. Mich Ultra, Woodchuck Cider… there’s this drinking hole in Chelsea that has this wonderful ale with actual blueberries floating in it. Oh, listen to me go on. Hey, you have nice facial hair. Do you groom it to that length or does it just come in naturally like that?

Oliver: We should get out of here, shouldn’t we?

Anderson: Oh, so it comes in naturally?

Anderson Cooper Inadvertently Outed by Charity Auction [Socialite’s Life]

Pounded by Peyton, and other punishments I wouldn’t turn down

Published by Jordan on January 22, 2007 in Club News and Potpourri. 0 Comments

sad tomOh, how I wish I were still in Boston to lick up Tom Brady’s enormous tears while I lovingly massage his broad shoulders. It’s a little known fact that I used to be on the Patriots’ payroll to do just that.

But instead, I had to watch the gut wrenching game from afar, all by my lonesome in a land that doesn’t understand the true meaning of the word “wicked.” In my incredible list of things I’ll miss about Boston – Rob being perched right at the top – is Boston sports. Indeed, both the Pats and the Sox have this magical way of making a clueless queer sit up and pay attention. And it’s not just because of the jock straps and locker room interviews. Playoff games in both sports have all the drama of a good drag show, and the added benefit of nachos and beer.

So now as the Patriots go into hibernation, I’ll be gettin’ back into the game here at the Club. It’s been an intense few days, but I’m already drenched in some hot Hollywood goo to share with y’all. But not tonight. Instead, I have to make a last-ditch push to get rid of this jetlag before I start my new job tomorrow.

Soon!

Indianapolis Jolt [Boston.com]

The PEN15 is stuffed

Published by Rob on December 28, 2006 in Bitches, Celebs, Films and Potpourri. 0 Comments

nicolekeithsydney.jpgSorry for the yuletide silence, but we’ve been too busy sitting on our parents’ couches and developing bigger, better, newer rolls of fat in celebration of our lord and savior Jesus Christ. Any more butterfat, and we’ll be as shiny as Nicole Kidman. Or as obese as Donald Trump can’t stop reminding everyone that Rosie is. (Aren’t you comforted by the fact that comedians on talk shows can no longer make fun of arrogant, toupeed blowhards without being subjected to a firestorm of homophobic and misogynist logorrhea?).

Whatever. We know you bitches were too busy contributing to Dreamgirls’ torrid box office take (and we don’t mean “torrid” as in the store for fashionable young fattes). Isn’t Beyonce seeming more and more, shall we say, “touched in the head” with every interview? I love her sob story of how she forced herself to lose 20 pounds for the role, because Motown was really all about heroin chic.

If you like, tide yourself over by reading a bit of me at Pajiba, which we love. Merry post-Xmas!

Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban spend Christmas in Australia [Celebitchy]
Rosie O’Donnell compares Donald Trump to a ‘pimp’ [People]
‘Dreamgirls’ daily box office [Box Office Mojo]
Notes on a Scandal [Pajiba]