Those statues The Flight Centre uses to display current prices creep me out. When I see them out of the corner of my eye I always have to do a double take. I see one every day on the way to work and think it’s a guy who I know works for the FC and sometimes subs in the agency by my office, but since we “did it” a few years back, he’s decided that he doesn’t remember me. That’s right. He has sexamnesia.

Speaking of which, I sort of side with the guy who claimed he was afflicted with sexsomnia. I know someone who has it and witnessed it first hand. So to speak. ‘Nuff said.

I am signing up for Bad Dog Theatre’s improv program today. Wish me …er… break a leg. What do I hope to get out of it? ATTENTION! Attention I deserve! I want my own g-d show or a spot on SNL. So people can say “I knew him when he was funny.”

Today, however, my back is killing me. It’s been steadily getting worse to get out of bed since Monday and this morning, Sharkboy had to push me to stop me from falling back onto the matress and pooping the bed. I’m ok as soon as I’m up but its that initial inertia that is rough. He thinks it’s my kidney.

Just my fancy way of announcing my monthly updates on the other blogs you should be reading (again, some are on my blacklist, sorry for the non-link):

BrotherDown (brotherdown.blogspot.com) has a difficult time with “YellowStone” Never charade drunk.

“…the experience of nearly a generation of gay men being wiped out from HIV is just as far removed from you as the holocaust.” Lordy AcidReflux’s blog (lifeandtimespoz.blogspot.com/2006/01/got-hard-on-and-no-where-to-go.html) is funny yet not. Yet is. (whispers) Should I be laughing…?

Jim B hasn’t updated his blog since November. It’s understandable. He’s renovating. Maybe some traffic to his site will inspire him to post some pictures of the damage.

Dawn was worried about the floods. Hopefully Arnold will keep her safe.

Salvage made a funny at our American friend’s expense.

Ever realized something from your youth wasn’t what it seemed? Not Well Planned got a wake up call.

Photojunkie links to a sick-making wicked cool picture. Shimmy!

Blamb gives us another self indulgent smarmy cartoon (I am, of course, just kidding). This one made me want to call Airmiles and demand my toaster.

A well hung conversation over at Where the Hell Was I:
Her: What color would you think would work?
Me: Gee, I dunno. Magenta?
Her: Um… well, I think magenta might, ah, clash. With, sort of, everything.
Me: Oh. Okay. How about black, then?
Her: Black? On the walls? All the walls?
Me: Well, black doesn’t clash, right?

That Woman wakes up without a hangover Jan 01. Good for him.

Nothing I type here can prepare you for SloppyJoe’s clip of the month. Just go.
Star Wars Stripper part 1

Star Wars Stripper part 2

1) She talks. Non stop. But I guess that is on par for anyone who has their fingers in your mouth. No chance whatsoever of getting a word in edgewise. At the end of the cleaning, my Dentist came in to inspect her work and looked up at the TV to see Dr Phil (more on that in a moment) and he asks what today’s show is about. She launches into such a disjointed monologue, emphasized with finger pointing at the screen, that the writers for LOST would have been envious: “He’s got two girlfriends but one is his wife and she the girlfriend, is her ex best friend and he’s had two kids with them within a month of each other and he cant decide…”

I shoot a look at my Dentist. His eyes are sheilded of course but they tell all. Nothing. He’s sat through this rant before.

2) She has a sense of humour. On her “Wall of Teef” or “Wall of Great Gums” or something, there is an area of nothing but cats. I am assuming cats from clients. Unless she’s a crazy cat lady, which wouldnt surprise me one bit. Smack dab in the centre of the cat collage is a picture of ALF. I dont know if its a sick joke or what. But it’s funny.

3) She loves Dr Phil. I have never seen a show of his, nor have I seen his initial appearances on Oprah, either. It was like watching Desperate Housewives on Quaaludes. “I. Will. Leave. Him.” chants a upper middle class woman so mired in low self esteem, she makes Kirstie Alley look like… Dr Phil. Of course, I am biased because of all the screaming, punching Springer/Montel/Maury/Ricky Lake shows I’ve seen.

I was on the subway the other day and I caught a glimpse of myself in the window and I thought “Holy Christ, I dress like a 12 yr old boy!” I was wearing a pair of CAT hightops, white socks peeking out up over top, a pair of black Tough Duck work pants, and a white t-shirt with a sketch of a robot in black and white. I thought about this for a moment and wondered what I would look like if I was watched by a hidden camera like on “What Not To Wear” and have it played back for me. Then I began to wonder just what kind of collective damage a show like that does. Making all of us—humanity, exceedingly self concious about what we as a people look like. I took that thought to the extreme of people dressing exactly alike and not doing anything out of the status quo. Then I thought…I dont really care what people think of the way I dress…I generally think today’s fashions look like some poor Nike-slave sewed up some jeans, sat in bleach and rolled around in mud for the benefit of Missy and Madonna. If you want worn jeans, why not go to Goodwill? Am I getting old and bitter? Anyway. Im not about to go out and buy new clothes. I like my robot t-shirts.

My cat nearly escaped my back yard gulag, or Pussylag 17 as Mike calls it. She discovered how to climb a bush. Of course the fat sister, Lady Penelope could only meow in encouragement: “Meow! Go! Go get help!!” God I love my girls.

…I pick it up to this question:

“Ted, when someone requests our URL (he pronounces it YOO. AHR. ELL.) that means I just give them our website. Right?”

“Yes.”

I hang up slowly. Lordy I need a new job.

The odd thing is that not too many people know what URL stands for.

Mr Daryl Vocat, a regular reader of my iPod rants sends me this email of self-abuse and self-promotion. Seems like he’s one busy artfag! Go see!

Here’s a bit of a reminder of some upcoming art shows. I’m sure many of
you are involved in some way, so come on and hang out!

==========

Queer in the Headlights, Curated by Karen Chapelle
Runs June 7-July 7, Part of the Toronto Pride Art Walk
Reception: Friday, June 17, 7PM
9:30PM Trash & Ready, Hunter Valentine and Will Munro DJ

NOW Lounge
189 Church St.
416-364-1301

Monday-Friday- 9am-6pm
June 18/19 and June25/26 – 1-6pm
Call or visit www.nowlounge.com for more details.
Opening June 17th- 7-9pm followed by entertainment 9pm till close.

This show spotlights some of Toronto’s hottest new and established artists, providing a snapshot of the range of difference that makes Toronto’s queer community so rich and unique. Working in various mediums – from needlepoint to erotic photographs – the exhibit puts an edgy spin on queer aesthetics.

Artists include: Daryl Vocat, Lynne Fernie, Wendy Coburn, David Hawe, Andy Fabo, Andrew Harwood, Dianne Davis, Tracey Day, Fernanda Faria, Melissa Levin, Cecilia Berkovic, Ian Fraser, James Blake, GB Jones, David Findlay, Carol Camper, Will Munro

==========

Making History

125 King St. East, (King and Church)
June 16-June 30

Reception: Thurs, June 16 7-10PM

Artists include: Barbara Balfour, Luis Jacob, Andrew Harwood, Alec Butler, Will Munro, Scott Treleaven, Paige Gratland, Joel Gibb, Dana Baitz, Melissa Levin, Nancy Nicol, John Greyson, RM Vaughan, Roy Mitchell and Eugenio Salas, Johannes Zits, Ed Pien, Daryl Vocat, Allyson Mitchell,
Lise Beaudry, Andy Fabo, and Deanna Bowen

==========

Imaging A Lovers Discourse

-UPPITY QUEERS READING SERIES
Thursday June 16th 8-10pm
Suggested Donation $5

The following authors will be reading:
Sky Gilbert, Zoe Whittall, RM Vaughan, Drew Rowsome, Mariko Tamaki, Troy Yorke, Alex Rowlson

-SILENT AUCTION
Thursday, June 23 9-12pm

Artists have been asked to create works based on the book A Lover’s Discourse by Roland Barthes. All works will be sold through a silent auction with all proceeds going to Glad Day. The donated work will be on exhibition from June 9th to June 23rd. The auction will be a cash and
carry event on the 23rd. During the auction live music will be provided by DJ TK and Barbrafisch

Some of the participating artists include: Florencia Berinstein, Rob Davidovitz, Patrick de Coste, Paige Gratland, David Grenier, Lauren Hall, Luis Jacob, Stephanie Rogerson, Sholem, Lex Vaughn, Daryl Vocat, and Andrea Winkler

Toronto Free Gallery
660 Queen Street East
Toronto, On M4E 2J8
Tel. 416-913-0461
Fax 416-915-7055
www.torontofreegallery.org

==========

And don’t forget, the following show is still up! If you haven’t seen it yet, the trek is worth it. There is a tonne of stuff to do at Harbourfront and the work in the show is great.

Modern Day Myths
Opening Reception: Thursday, May 19. 7-9 PM
May 20 – July 1

A group exhibition by members of Open Studio –Open Studio artist members exhibit prints exploring myths that speak both to primitive tradition and the modern day. Toronto participating artists: Tara Cooper, Elizabeth Forrest, Doug Guildford, Libby Hague,Lisa Levitt, Liliana Rodriguez, Lotti Thomas, and Daryl Vocat. Presented in collaboration with Open
Studio.

York Quay Centre, Harbourfront Centre
235 Queens Quay West
Toronto, ON.

…are up for your shits and giggles in City As Blog!

Right now I am wearing black socks, my day-old Y fronts and nothing else. I just this moment sneaked a toot out my right cheek. I’m eating a Mac N Cheese Bologna sammich with ketchup.

No, it’s on Dempster’s brown. What do you think I am? Uncooth?

Okay kids, two low grade, hasbeen celebs just blipped on my radar, coming in fast from Hollywood Rag.

Carrot Top proves that steroids aren’t just for baseball players. His face looks eerily similar to Tim Allen’s… Mommy! Where are that man’s eyebrows!?!

Jack Osborne has shed some weight. He’s mugging here and still has a respectable amount of pudge, but in this photo, (via enter the chapel), he’s lookin LA rockstar hot.

Alhurrrk…

I’m sorry. I am still mesmerized by that low pants shot of Carrot Top.

11:30pm, Friday night. Sharkboy and I are eating our post-Bear night pizza on the steps at Church and Alexander.

A posse of 5 young men all approximately around 20 years old, their collective weight maybe 85Kg, noisily walk past us. Then walk back and park themselves in front of our pizza-noshing stoop. They’re all hootern’ and hollerin’ about something and its apparently everyone’s problem because they certainly aren’t at all concerned who might be overhearing their high drama moment. The kabuki phoniness of their gayness made me feel like we were watching some sort of street performance put on for the benefit of anyone who could hear them. Basically everyone within a mile, really.

A woman comes up to the group and starts to yell at the littlest of the group.

“Where where you!?!” she bellows.

“Don’t be getting in my face,” the tiny urbanite yells.

They continue on in this vein of MTV-like yammering and it becomes clear that the mini-fag is dumping the fag hag. As their conversation becomes increasingly heated, a group of three people try to pass the meelee, which has now expanded their stage to enclude the whole sidewalk. One of the passing three pipes up as they go around the schoolyard din:

“What are you? Five?”

Sometimes the simplest catty remark is the best.