Fucking Chairs

I never thought chairs had sexual lives of their own until I saw this hilarious, surprisingly hot short film called Roof Sex (click to see movie).

So watch out, boys and girls: that hard lump on the sofa may not be the remote control.

Cover Letter Hell

Whoever invented cover letters should be immediately given a Brazilian wax, using duct tape instead of wax, as a punishment. Because, seriously, writing multiple cover letters until 3 a.m. is about as enjoyable as getting a Brazilian with duct tape. Why not share the fun?

In a cover letter you have 200 words to introduce yourself, explain what position you're applying for and why, describe your background and how it's applicable to this specific job, do a little low-key ego stroking, ask for an interview, and then sign off. Cover letters are all one big formula, but that still doesn't mean I like them.

There's something so--I don't know--disconcerting about presenting yourself and applying for a job that you actually care about in a 200-word letter.

Boo on cover letters.

All I'm sayin' is that I better get the #@!$%*& internship. Otherwise I'll track down those human resources fuckers with my roll of decade-old duct tape and give them a surprise they'll not soon forget.

Sinning With My Headphones

Let’s say you have a really boring class Monday and Wednesday afternoons that you and your friends have nicknamed The Most Boring Class Ever.

Usually you deal with this problem by bringing your laptop to class and using wireless Internet access to check your e-mail and read The New York Times Online.

But today? Today you are feeling particularly naughty.

So what do you do? Why, you wire your iPod headphones through the sleeve of your shirt, pop a headphone into one ear, lean your head on your hand to hide the earphone, and watch a movie on your laptop during class.

This sort of behavior makes The Most Boring Class Ever go by much faster.

These things happen when you’re a college senior in your last two weeks of classes.

Sometimes being naughty feels wickedly good. I almost feel like I deserve a spanking.

'Sex and the City' Exclusive

Tonight Candace Bushnell, the real-life Carrie Bradshaw and author of the novel "Sex and the City," came to the University of Minnesota. I was there and I transcribed the entire event. You can't get this exclusive anywhere else on the Net. :)

"A lot of people get caught up in love and they think it’s going to solve all of their problems, but relationships don’t solve your problems, and usually they make them worse.

You have to be able to make an adult decision about commitment. It wasn’t until I got older and really understood that the only way a relationship can work is commitment. And for some people that does mean marriage.

I think young women spend too much time worrying about relationships and not about their career. I know that you think your career is boring right now, but when people ask me about my biggest regret, it was that in my 20s I wish I would have spent more time thinking about my career than my relationships and more about making money and getting ahead.

We don’t tell women enough how important it is to be successful. Success gives you self-actualization and a sense of achievement. And when you’re successful it’s easy to find a man and a relationship. It’s hard to find a decent man and a relationship when you’re needy and you’re unsure and you hate your job and you hate your life. That’s probably one of the worst times to meet a man. It’s kind of like a Band-Aid.

My advice is to really concentrate on you and be a whole person and a whole person who makes a contribution to the world. Everything else will follow, including a great relationship."

Click here to read the whole article.

Stupid Bitches

I'm going to bottom-line it for you all:

The film festival didn't go very well.

Tiaras, Pop Tarts, Italian Wine and Doritos

What's that? What's that you say? Your friend's film festival didn't go quite as planned? Try our following recipe to deal with the situation.

First, analyze the hell out of the situation. Talk. A lot. Call the judges stupid bitches. And then explore why their mediocrity of vision didn't land you one of the awards. Laugh about the films that did win the awards--including the one that featured sing-a-longs with corporate logos. That one sucked.

Second, go to the nearest convenience store. Buy Doritos and Pop Tarts. Return home with said products and best friend and pull out expensive bottle of Italian wine. Let friend wear the tiara and earrings your friends gave you as a gag gift two years ago. Take pictures. Then laugh at pictures.

Laugh at said pictures until your stomach hurts and you don't care about the stupid film festival anyway. You know why? Because you're fabulous. That's why. Your tiara says it all.

Smutty Snacks at 2 a.m.

Josh K. and I went to see his film at the U of M Film Festival with our friend, Michael, and we worked up quite an appetite watching all those student films. Some of them were heinous. Awful, really. But one of them, called “Daydream Degas” was absolutely beautiful. And I might be biased here, but I thought Josh K.’s "Moira" was truly one of the best films at the festival. No joke. But I digress.

At 2 a.m. we left the film festival and made a unanimous decision that fast food was in order, stat. The picture above shows the Josh & Josh smutty Burger King tray, complete with four hamburgers, five chicken tenders, and a large Coke. A boy can really work up an appetite watching movies, you know? Movie watching is such an arduous task.

Anyhow, I’ve got my fingers crossed for Josh’s film. I really want him to win.


Josh K. and Josh H. at 2 a.m., just before snarfing down smutty snacks at Burger King.

I Spy

I sort of fell in love with the idea of them.

I was at Chipotle on campus eating a nummy chicken burrito after seeing "Sin City" downtown when they walked in. My jaw dropped. I had to focus on chewing. Really.

I found them beautiful--these two guys who walked in, ordered burritos, and were so well-dressed and playful. Crazy music played on the huge speakers in the restaurant (as usual) and they sort of dance/strutted to the soda machine together. Suddenly the taller one (the guy on the right in the picture above) started playfully dry humping the other guy in front of the soda machine. The other guy went with it and started laughing.

I tried to figure out if they were gay or straight. I couldn't tell. But I also don't think I really cared.

They sat down to eat their burritos and I did something I've never done before. I surreptitiously slipped my brand new Canon Elph out of my messenger bag, turned off the flash, and snapped three pictures. I wanted to remember them. Plus I knew Josh K. would quiz me about the boys later when I told him the "hot guys at Chipotle" story, and I wanted photographic evidence.

It's true. I spied. Does this qualify me for junior paparazzi status? Should I be applying for a job with Us Weekly?

Josh & Josh Invade Ikea (Again!)

Josh and I just can't seem to stay away from Ikea. We spent the afternoon browsing the model rooms and noshing on snacks in Ikea's cafeteria. We took a digital camera along and had fun posing in different Ikea model environments. The following are some of the resulting (crazy) pictures.


Josh K. (left) and Josh H. (right) attend a pretend dinner party in an Ikea model dining room.


Josh K. orders around underlings in one of Ikea's office models. And he means business, folks. You can tell by the pointed finger.


Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Josh H. washes dishes after the pretend dinner party we had earlier.


Josh K. lounges around in one of our favorite model living rooms. How great would it be to come home to this apartment after work?


Josh H. cuddles up with "Wuthering Heights" in one of the Ikea office/den models.

We admit it. We're crazy. But we love it.

And we love digital cameras. And Ikea.

And we did pick out the furniture we'll have in our respective bedrooms when we move to NYC in September.

Judy Shepard Exclusive

This is truly a Josh & Josh exclusive. I wrote a story about Judy Shepard, the mother of murdered hate crime victim Matthew Shepard, for the issue of a local magazine that hits newsstands next week. You're getting bonus material that doesn't even appear in the article. The story posted here is comprised of Judy's direct quotes. What Judy Shepard had to say was equal parts funny, eloquent, and heartbreaking.

"You might say, 'Oh, I’m not gay, I don’t have anything to come out about.' If you’re Jewish, you need to talk about discrimination; if you’re a person of color, you need to talk about it. If you’re Muslim, you need to talk about it. And not just you, but your families and friends. They need to know your story and they need to tell your story. Because nobody will know or care if that doesn’t happen.

No white politician who is straight and white and over 65 will ever know what it’s like to be GLBT unless you talk to them and tell them what your story is, the discrimination you face and fear everyday because we don’t protect you.

And when our leader comes on the TV and says gay people can’t get married, people think you’re second class citizens and they hurt you because they think you don’t matter. Only you have the power to change that by telling your stories. And voting. Talk and vote. You can’t make the changes except from the inside."

Click here to read the full Judy Shepard exclusive.

Shower Night at The Saloon

Last night I went to The Saloon, the biggest meat market gay club in Minneapolis, to cover a story for a campus magazine.

Last year The Saloon installed a shower near the dance floor where professional dancers let water sluice down their bodies while strippin’ nekkid for tips. When I walked into the club with my friend, Michael, we were immediately greeted by the sight of four dozen guys standing around the shower as a dancer pulled his pud to the steady rhythm of the music pumping off the dance floor.

Huh, I thought, isn’t this interesting? Four dozen grown men standing around watching this guy showering and wanking. What an interesting sociological phenomenon. The whole thing was sort of like a train wreck: you know you’re not supposed to look or really want to see, but you look anyway and you sort of do want to see.

The magazine hired me to profile one of the male dancers, Flip (that’s his stripper name, anyway), who worked it in the shower, standing on his hands and splaying his legs, sliding off his sleek black thong mid-air after a patron slipped him a twenty. Flip was, by far, the audience favorite.

I have the sit-down interview with Flip tomorrow, which I think will be really voyeuristically interesting. I mean, what's it like to be a stripper? What does it feel like, how much do you make? And how does one become a stripper in the first place, anyway?

Bloody Bjork

It was rumored that Björk was going to show up at the Walker Art Center this opening weekend to support her boyfriend, artist Matthew Barney, whose large installation is featured in the new Friedman gallery.

We were surprised when she actually showed up. With a bloody nose.

Now, it remains unclear whether it was actually a bloody nose or if it was makeup, but, whatever the case, she let it drip elegantly above her beautiful Icelandic lips the whole night.

Which, come to think of it, sounds a bit like menstruation.

Also in attendance was Al Franken, who is surprisingly cute in person.

Coming Soon to a City Near You

The proposed $1.5 billion Bridges of Saint Paul residential, retail, and entertainment complex on St. Paul's west side river flats would be the first of its kind in the Twin Cities. And it looks absolutely breathtaking.

The project would be completed over ten years by a developer who will not take no for an answer.

The problem, some say, is that the complex, which includes 30-story condominiums, a multiplex theatre, and dozens of restaurants and shops, would both suck life away from downtown St. Paul and be an unwelcome distraction from the beauty of the river flats.

I think it's a much-needed revitalization for a city that most view as a "nice place to sleep in." Go check out the proposal at The Bridges of Saint Paul. Any thoughts?

Edna E. Mode is All That

Edna E. Mode from “The Incredibles.”

If you haven’t seen “The Incredibles” yet you must see it. Soon.

“The Incredibles” follows two retired superhero parents raising a family in the suburbs. Dad, the former Mr. Incredible, has a job at an insurance agency and mom, the former Elastagirl, is a housewife raising a sullen daughter and a high-strung son while taking care of a baby. Everything changes when the world is in danger once again and mom and dad have to come out of retirement, possibly bringing the whole family with them.

The dialogue is snappy and witty and the visuals are truly incredible (no pun intended). Pixar has this stuff down pat. Even details like the hair on the characters’ head are meticulously done. In fact, the hair looks so good throughout that it almost becomes another character. Pantene Pro-V, you can eat your heart out, bitches.

Edna E. Mode, pictured above, nearly steals the show. Edna is the superhero costume designer who went on to high fashion after superheroes were forced into retirement. This sassy bitch, voiced by writer/director Brad Bird, has some of the best one-liners in the whole movie. She uses the word “darling” in ways that had me laughing so hard that I nearly peed. If you don’t see this movie for any other reason, see it for Miss Edna. I promise it’s worth it.

The Coffee Cult

Tonight at The Restaurant (that hot, hip one where I work downtown) my energy started to flag.

"If you want a pick-me-up you should have a cup of coffee,” one of the servers suggested, waggling a porcelain coffee cup at me.

I was tempted. I gave in.

“Do you know that I never, ever drink coffee?” I said to her, pouring myself a steaming cup. Two other servers in the serving station turned to stare at me, shocked.

“What do you mean you don’t drink coffee? Like, you only have it once a day instead of three times a day?”

I laughed. “Well, I mean, I just never have it. Like, ever.”

I poured in cream and sugar (they told me that if I was hardcore that I would drink it black, but since I’m a newbie I decided I could doctor it up) and took a drink. Four sets of eyes watched me intently. I made an “mmmm” sound as I drank and the three servers nodded.

“You’ll be hooked in no time,” one said, grinning. I had visions of myself at Starbucks ordering four-dollar double tall super mocha latte thingies and I shuddered. But I finished the cup anyway. And I did perk up.

I think the coffee cult is trying to get me.

Friday Treatz

Welcome to Friday Treatz, Josh and Josh's excuse to post pictures of things we found interesting, hot, or saucy during the week that we couldn't find a place for until now. So, without further ado:


These guys make me wish I was a) a hot straight girl, and/or b) a hot straight bat (if you know what I mean).


In this case, I wish I was a) Ben Affleck's lover, and/or b) European. Ben Affleck and his gay cousin, Jason, are on the left, in an ad for PFLAG. On the right is a gay European couple in an ad for IKEA (the text translates to "My daddies also come in a set") .

P.S. It's now 9 a.m. and I can't find my effing W-2 form. How serious is the government when they say that taxes are due on April 15th? What if I go ahead and put 'er in the mail tomorrow? No good?

Josh H.'s Treatz addendum:

Is This Advertisement Problematic?

Every year Spring Pride Week is a huge event at the University of Minnesota. We host nationally-recognized speakers, show films, and host a widely popular drag show with a big dance afterward.

This year, however, something is amiss.

This year's Spring Pride advertising theme is "recruitment." The advertisements say, "We want YOU to be gay for a day." And I understand there are many interpretations of the slogan--for example, wanting straight people to put themselves in the shoes of a gay person for a day and try and imagine what that might be like. That's a great idea, but I still find the advertisements troubling.

For decades opponents of the GLBT community have lobbed charges that GLBT people "recruit" straight people to be gay. (Please--as if we wanted your beer swilling, plaid-wearing, buck-toothed sons and daughters, Mr. and Mrs. Conservative Alabama.)

There's so much baggage around the term "recruiting" that I'm not sure we should be using it to advertise our Spring Pride Week. Perhaps the advertising team thought they would try to reclaim the term "recruiting" and diffuse the negative connotations of the term with the campaign, but I don't think it worked.

What do you think of the advertising? Is it problematic?

I'm Published in Today's Newspaper!

Rep. Rick Hansen, DFL-South St. Paul, and Sen. Scott Dibble, DFL-Minneapolis, at AIDS Action Day.

By Josh H.

Eight years ago, Minneapolis resident Bill Johnson’s immune system crashed, nearly killing him.

“My doctor looked at me one day and said, ‘Get ready,’” Johnson said.

Johnson, 44, developed full-blown AIDS in 1995, the year a new generation of HIV/AIDS medications became available.

Luckily for Johnson, the medications worked and his health improved steadily, but not without an expensive price tag. The cost of Johnson’s HIV/AIDS medications exceeded $3,000 a month, and two-thirds of his monthly paycheck went toward medical expenses.

Yesterday, Johnson joined about 100 other concerned citizens at the Minnesota State Capitol for AIDS Action Day. The lobby day, organized by the Minnesota AIDS Project, gave them a chance to discuss with legislators the bill that could ease the costs of prescription medication for low-income HIV/AIDS patients.

The HIV Prevention and Health Care Access Bill will be introduced this week in the Minnesota legislature.

“Nobody deserves to go through that hell of deciding if they can afford to [pay rent] and eat food, or die because they cannot afford their meds,” Johnson said.

Click here to continue reading the article.

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

So, I work in the Walker Art Center shop and I was there tonight when the building was open to board members, funders, and special invitees (which is to say that anyone worth less than ten million dollars was not allowed inside the building).

I met a lot of wealthy people tonight, kids, and I have to tell you: most of them are fucking great. I love how they throw money around like it's play Monopoly money, purchasing $600 watches on a whim, digging through their Prada handbags looking for their Platinum Visa cards, and dropping names left and right.

One woman walked in to the shop and asked to see the postcards of images from the Walker's permanent collection. After I showed her to the table, I overheard her say, "Oh, there's my Jasper Johns!" I thought she was joking.

She wasn't.

Later she was telling a few of my coworkers and me that she couldn't believe that "her Marilyns" were not also on a postcard. Did you catch that? Marilyn, y'all. As in Monroe. As in this bitch is extremely wealthy and could probably buy a small country with the money she used to buy one of Andy Warhol's screenprinted images of Marilyn Monroe.

Funny, that.

It's Official: The Girl is Preggers

On Britney Spears's newly retooled web site she has announced that, no, she's not just fat:

SHE'S PREGNANT.

I guess Kevin's little swimmers work, huh? Or is it the pool boy's baby?

Wanna know more? Click here.

My First Film Festival!

My short film Moira made it into the University of Minnesota's First Annual Film Festival, y'all! It's a film in which the main character, Moira, mouths the lyrics to a song about heterosexual love between a beautiful white girl and an ugly beast.

Luckily for me, every last goddamned film that was submitted is being shown, which means, of course, that even if my film is on par with "Glitter" and "Gigli," they still have to show it. Thank god for that. Hopefully, though, they will think it's halfway decent so I have a chance at winning the grand prize (a two-week trip for two to Europe!).

Wish me luck!

The Tony Danza Report

Remember Tony Danza who starred in the 1980s sitcom "Who's the Boss?" Well, yesterday my good friend David was sauntering through Central Park when he thought he recognized a guy rollerblading through the park. It didn't take David long to figure out that the guy he saw was Tony Danza.

"He looked horrible," David said. "His skin looked like a burlap sack and he had on awful white nylon shorts and his hair looked really stringy."

Danza, who is 5'7" and was born Anthony Iadanza, is now 54 years old and unemployed.

The careers of most of his former "Who's the Boss?" co-stars have stalled as well. Alyssa Milano, currently on the TV show "Charmed", is the only one who has found some success since "Who's the Boss?" went off-air in 1992 after 193 episodes. (Alyssa is Tony's real-life niece.) Judith Light, who played Angela, is doing late-night infomercials for acne products. Danny Pintauro, who played Jonathan, came out of the closet in 1997 in the pages of "The National Enquirer" and is currenly doing a play at New Theater Restaurant in Overland Park, Kansas. (I'm not kidding.) It's just, you know, Off-Off-Off-Off-Off Broadway.

But anyhow, as David said, it sounds like maybe Tony Danza isn't so much the boss anymore. Could it be that "Who's the Boss?" was cursed?

Is Everybody Doing Porn These Days?

So remember how one time I was browsing a porn site and found my ex-boyfriend on the site getting his dong slobbered on by some guy with bad hair?

And remember how my friend A.S. from last year posed for Playboy Online and one of Josh K.'s high school classmates showed up on the Sean Cody gay porn web site?

Well, we now we can add another to the list of porn stars the Joshes know.

A few weeks ago Miss Involved, a 19-year-old U of M student, went to Chicago for a few days where she posed for several very explicit photographs for an online porn site. The photos show Miss Involved riding a big dildo like a bronco and lookin' all sweaty.

It's so odd seeing somebody you know from a professional situation riding a dildo on an online porno site, you know?

So my question is this: is everybody doing porn these days? And how many college students are out there supplementing their tuition payments by rolling around on Playboy Online or getting butt pirated on Corbin Fisher or flashing their bidness around while wearing bad puka shell necklaces and striking awkward poses? What's with that, anyway?

Tragic Fire at Bush Estate

Crawford, Texas (not AP) - A tragic fire this morning destroyed the personal library of President George W. Bush.  The fire began in the presidential bathroom where both of the books were kept. Both of his books have been lost. A presidential spokesman said the president was devastated, as he had almost finished coloring the second one.

Josh & Josh See 'Laramie Project'

Josh and I went to see the University of Minnesota production of "The Laramie Project" today. The play, which is based on the transcripts of interviews with the people of the town where the Matthew Shepard hate crime murder took place, packs a visceral emotional punch.

Samantha Colburn as Aaron Kriefels, the bicyclist who finds Matthew Shepard, completely inhabited her role. Anna Safar as Romaine Patterson, Matthew's best friend and the organizer of Angel Action, made me both laugh and cry at the same time at the end of the show.

There were two actors who were rather disappointing in the show, but thankfully they had lesser parts. One of them had a great scene that they totally drained of the organic energy written into the script.

But, barring that, the show is definitely worth seeing. "Laramie Project" is at the U of M from April 8-17, 2005. Let us know what you think of it. :)

What the @#!% is on Camilla's Head?

Today Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles finally got married. They were originally supposed to marry on Friday, but the the pope had to go and bite the dust and delay their nuptials (ever heard of omens, kids?).

My only real question: What the @#!% is Camilla wearing on her @#!%ing head? That is the most hideous hat that I've ever seen. Does she realize she'll have to look at pictures of that goddamned thing for the rest of her life?

What was she thinking?

That's one fashion faux pas that Diana would never have made. Of course, Diana was stylish and fabulous and didn't moderately resemble a horse. Maybe that has something to do with it.

Get Your Freak On at Wal-Mart

So maybe your campaign of finding a new hot boyfriend through Friendster isn't going so well. You're probably sick of bars, too. I mean, who meets a quality boyfriend at a bar anyway, right?

Well, Wal-Mart wants you to consider using their store on Friday nights as a dating hotspot. I am not kidding. (Read the article here on CNNMoney.)

Dating nights at Wal-Mart have debuted in Germany. On Friday nights as many as 400 singles come into Wal-Mart and attach bright red bows to their shopping carts which indicate that they're single and ready to flirt and mingle. Then the patrons wheel their carts around the store, hunt through the bargains, and look for The One.

I think the whole idea of hooking up at Wal-Mart kinda scares me.

So, do you know anybody who has hooked up at a Wal-Mart? Or have you? And what state are you from, exactly?

Celebrity Redeems & Politician Steams

Tonight at The Restaurant (that hot, hip one downtown where I work) Ms. Celebrity came in again with a few of her friends. I mentioned in a previous post that Ms. Celebrity has been in the local spotlight for a few decades and that she's had some work done and that she just loves wine--and perhaps sometimes more than she should.

But tonight Ms. Celebrity may have redeemed herself. Last time at The Restaurant she behaved like a fussy cat (some might say "angry pussy," but I digress). This time, however, she was much better behaved. She came in with a straight male friend and an adorable, well-mannered, well-dressed fifty-something gay couple. Ms. Celebrity even said a few polite things to me through the night. Sure she was sucking down white wine like usual, but she didn't get blitzed and she tipped well. All of this bodes well for her reputation on the Minneapolis restaurant circuit.

But while Ms. Celebrity may have been well behaved, a high profile female Minnesota politician was not. Ms. Politician came in rushed and fussy and armed with a sharp tongue. When Ms. Politician was told she would have to wait an hour for a table (which is very reasonable considering our restaurant's popularity) she started yelling at the host, furious she couldn't get a table right away. The host stood his ground; Ms. Politician left in a huff.

It's never a dull night at The Restaurant.

Chasing the Big Interview

Trying to land an interview with Matthew Shepard's mother, Judy Shepard, is no easy feat. At this point I've talked to her press reps based in Wyoming and with Keppler Associates in Arlington, Virginia, where she has an agent who books her speaking engagements.

Judy Shepard is going to be on the University of Minnesota campus Friday, April 15, and I'm trying to nail down an interview with her before she arrives on campus.

Dealing with press reps and agents requires thick skin. It also involves many, many phone calls, guard dog receptionists, multiple e-mail campaigns, and patience and persistance in spades.

But if this interview goes through I might just have the interview that could put me on the writing radar.

Stay tuned, fair readers. If I land the interview you'll be the first to know, and you'll be first to read the exclusive interview. :)

Josh & Josh Are Moving to Manhattan!

Josh & Josh are moving to Manhattan in September 2005!

After graduation on May 15 we're going to stay in Minneapolis, rack up cash at our jobs, finish up some last business, and then at the end of August we're going to pack up a U-Haul and head east.

Josh H. is making plans to work for a national magazine in New York. Josh K. is making plans to edge his way into film, graphic design, advertising, and/or marketing.

In fewer than five months we'll be living in New York City on the Upper East Side in a great apartment with our friend, David. Josh H. is a writer, Josh K. is a filmmaker, and David is an actor. Somehow I think this could all work out rather well.

We're really doing it, everybody!

Wish us luck! We'll be packing our bags before we know it.

Honeymoon in Paris

I took this picture of my parents standing in front of the Eiffel Tower last January and it truly is one of my favorite pictures of them.

Their plane just took off from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, headed for Paris where they will spend the next ten days toodling around the city and lounging in the cute little apartment they rented near the Louvre.

I'm a little jealous that they get to spend all that time in Paris (have I mentioned that I'm madly in love with the city almost as much as New York?) but I'm excited for them, too. Maybe they'll make a little baby brother or sister for me while they're on the trip. You never know....

I Vanna Hump Jim Verraros

Jim Verraros, the openly gay American Idol contestant from the first season, dropped out of sight for a few years. He recently emerged from the ether of minor celebrity status and it seems that he's had quite the makeover in the mean time. (He used to have short blond hair, big glasses, and awkward clothing.)

I think I sort of want to hump him. I feel really embarrassed about saying that about an ex-American Idol finalist.

Jim's new album comes out later this month and it actually doesn't sound completely horrible. Check out Jim's pictures and listen to tracks from his new CD on his official web site.

What do you think? Is Jimmy Boy hot or not?

Goin' to the Chapel

Here's the dish: my parents got married this weekend and it was ridiculously great. I would try and explain how great it really was but it would involve an inappropriate number of hyperboles. There were no drunken uncles, no "oooh, she got fat!" moments, no petty fights--nothing like that. Everybody was gracious and relaxed and kind and fabulous. (See what I mean about the hyperboles? But they're true!)

We had the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday and then the ceremony late Saturday afternoon. Afterward we had the reception dinner and dance at this gorgeous mansion near the Minneapolis Institute of the Arts (pictured above) and everything was again--and I'm sorry to say this--pretty much fucking perfect. I'm happy for them, though, because they deserve that.

We capped everything off this morning with a huge catered brunch my parents' house where we all got to mingle and hang out and enjoy the post-wedding glow. (Oh God, doesn't this sound like something out of "Chicken Soup for the Soul" or something? I wish I had some dirty gossip to spill or something, but they just didn't give me any good material for any quality gossip swapping. I mean, I guess I could report that my unwed aunt is pregnant--quelle scandale!--but she's been with her man for eleven years now, qualifying as a common law married couple under Minnesota state law, so I guess that isn't much of a quality scandal. So much for the gossip.)

My mama got married, y'all, and the girl did it with grace, poise, and style. (Okay, did we talk about the hyperboles already? No, but seriously though...)

Stop Me If You've Heard This One

A guy walks in to Burrito Loco and orders himself a buffalo chicken burrito with extra buffalo sauce. He does this knowing that most spicy foods, like the buffalo sauce, upset his stomach so much that, to avoid any accidents, he might be better off eating them in the bathroom where he would be in close proximity to a toilet. With that said, he decides to order the sauce anyway because it tastes so good.

Like clockwork, five minutes after devouring the burrito his stomach respectfully sends him a half dozen warning shots, reminding him that, if a bathroom is not found immediately, his ass will explode in one big, mean cloud of shit. Luckily, the bathroom is nearby.

He heads to the counter where he sees the theft-proof bathroom key attached to a large metal spoon. Minutes later he's finishing up business, proud of the work he's accomplished, and begins closing up shop. As he's pulling up his underwear, though, he experiences a minor aftershock that, on the Richter Scale, would measure so low that sounding an alarm would be akin to crying wolf. He decides that it's flatulence and he lets it pass.

It quickly becomes apparent that there are serious communication issues between his stomach and him. So, while riding home in his friend's car, sitting cautiously on his thigh in the passenger seat with toilet paper stuffed tightly between his ass cheeks while recounting the mess to the co-owner of his blog by cell phone hoping he'll approve it for publication (Guy: "This is blog worthy. Is this blog worthy?" Co-Owner: "As long as you post it under your name it's fucking great." Guy: "Thank god."), he remembers a poem he once read that was written in permanent marker on a stall door in a public restroom:

Here I sit,
broken hearted;
I had to shit,
but only farted.

An hour later,
I took a chance
and tried to fart,
but shit my pants.

Escape to Manhattan: Five (The Finale)

My plane touched down in Minneapolis late Sunday night. That afternoon I’d had one last lunch with Christian in Central Park and we’d spent the day lazily reading The New York Times and walking through the city, eating hot dogs from street vendors and snapping pictures on my disposable camera.

Seeing Minneapolis unfold below me from the airplane window felt comforting. Sure, the gnawing reality of college and my ordinary responsibilities started to creep back, but somehow they didn’t feel debilitating like they had before. Now it seemed manageable, like something to be endured and finished up.

I made my way through the Minneapolis airport, collected my bags from the luggage carousel, and walked out onto the street. My best friend, Dylan, waited curbside in his black Saturn with his hazard lights flashing. When he saw me he started honking and waving. He got out of the front seat and rushed around the side of the car to hug me.

“So, how was it?” Dylan asked. He popped the trunk and helped me toss my things into the back of his car.

I sighed and smiled. “Dylan, it was amazing.”

“I want you to tell me everything about it. Don’t leave a goddamn thing out,” he said.

We got into the car, buckled up, and sped onto the highway. As we merged onto I-494 heading home I told him everything I could think of as we zoomed back into the city.

At last I was home. But I knew it wouldn’t be for long....

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