Get Your Tush into the Ikea Style Lab

You know that Josh and I love Ikea. We spent several hours there this week, with my little sister in tow, ogling all the goodies that Ikea Land has to offer. (We figured out an entirely new set-up scheme for our Manhattan bedrooms, which we are very excited about.)

On the Ikea web site we discovered a fun little tool called the Ikea Style Lab. In it you can design a room that you like, picking beds, wardrobes, curtains, rugs, paintings, and colors go into the room. It's kind of fun. [Click here to try it.]

Here's a room that Josh H. created using the Ikea Style Lab:


Josh K.'s room:

Britney Spears is a Goddamn Virus

And, this just in! Britney Spears is a virus! And she's not just a virus infecting the ol' music industry or supermarket tabloids. No! CNN reports that Britney is the most often used celebrity name on computer viruses. So if the bitch doesn't get you on the radio or in Star, she's shoo nuff gonna git your computer. Fuck, huh? [Read the article.]

Eat that Pop Star and Wear that Tiara, Biotch.

Jam Packed Sunday

Josh and I started our Sunday with a lunch on the patio at Noodles & Co. in Uptown near Lake Calhoun. After we chowed down (and ogled the seriously cute Siberian husky puppy nearby) we hit Whole Foods next door in search of fresh fruit to take to the lakes with us. In the mean time, we found the latest homo hangout at Jamba Juice in Whole Foods where a dozen moes were gathered, waiting for fresh smoothies and showing off their triceps.


Josh and I sat on the shores of Lake of the Isles, the swank lakeside community in Minneapolis, and looked out at the gorgeous lake, talked shit about people we knew, and read our fave books, Three Junes and Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.


Josh and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith downtown and really, really enjoyed it. It’s a perfect summer blockbuster confection, filled with hot stars, snappy one-liners, action, and intrigue. Is it going to win any Oscars? Not a chance. Will it make you laugh out loud and will you enjoy the cheeky cleverness? If you have a pulse, absolutely. Brad and Angelina have never looked this hot.


Josh and I met up with our friend David, in town for the week from New York, who will be our roommate when we move to NYC in August. The big news is that we got an apartment! We saw pictures of our fantastic Manhattan abode, located between Madison and Second Avenue in the East 80s, while we sipped drinks at Dunn Bros. downtown. We also talked hot sex, which was scandalously good fun.


Our next stop on the Jam Packed Sunday Tour was at Jitters, a fun little bar just north of downtown, where our friend Dan’s gay softball league threw a big fundraiser. We met some of Dan’s friends and palled around before heading to Boom, a popular, more upscale gay bar.


At Boom!, just a couple blocks north of Jitters, Josh and I sipped drinks and sang along to showtunes from Wicked and Avenue Q on Boom’s showtune sing-along night and met (and maybe flirted a little) with a ton of new people. (There are many more pictures available at mighty.typepad.com.)


We left one party to attend another with our friend Michael. When we arrived at his place he said, “Guys, I’m having some hair problems. Can you help me?”

Josh and I looked at each other. I grabbed Michael and a pair of scissors and we had ourselves a good ol’ time. The three of us talked and laughed while I snipped away and Michael compared it to being at Trudy’s Hair Salon in Steel Magnolia’s. I have sort of an accidental ability to cut hair and, actually, it turned out pretty well.


Voilà! Michael’s finished hairdo, product and all. Then the three of us hustled out to a car and sped downtown.


At the Gay 90s we met up with David and a bunch of other friends and watched the La Femme drag show (the bitches worked their bidness hardcore) and we shook our buns on each of the three dance floors at the 90s. In the picture above I was getting wild on the raised platform on the main floor and Joshie K. snapped a picture.

We left the 90s at 2 a.m. and brought Michael home, chatting in the lobby of his place, before parting for the evening. Josh and I went back to his fab apartment just south of downtown, threw open the windows, dimmed the lights, and talked forever on his couch.

I crawled into bed as the first rays of sun crept into my room through the slats in the blinds, dawning on a whole new week and endless possibilities.

A Sister in Need

Please help free Katie from Tom's steady, firm grip and buy a t-shirt. From the looks of it, she needs all the help she can get.

Josh K. Took a Purtee Picture of Josh H.

Friday Treatz, Vol. 4

What? What’s that you say? Hayden Christiansen is straight? Oh come on, don’t tell me you believe that rumor.

It’s pictures like the ones above that prove Hayden is queer as a three-dollar bill. Gotta love the Carrie Bradshaw flower.

Still want more proof that Hayden is one fruity mofo? Check out this picture and video of Hayden kissing Ewan McGregor at the airport [via Socialite’s Life].


In this month’s W magazine there is a huge spread of exclusive pictures of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie in dozens of different settings, positions, and outfits. In this picture Brad and Angelina are playing mommy and daddy to two little boys in a 1960s suburban chic setting. Way to keep the rumor mill at bay, right guys?

Their movie, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, opens nationwide today. (Josh and I will see it on Sunday. We know it’s going to be trashy and quite possibly bad, but that doesn’t mean it might not also be a bit of fun.) [Picture via Oh là là Paris]

Giving Up (Or: I Could Not Care Less)

Remember those times in your college career when nothing (and I mean nothing) could get you to write that boring essay or lengthy paper? I do.

Moving On After John

I met him while I was giving a condom demonstration during a brief safer sex lesson for a group of college students. (I was a professional sex educator for several years, but that’s another story for another time.)

John stood out right away. I liked the way he smiled at me, I liked the way he smelled, I liked that we had so much in common before we even met. On that first night we met we talked until late into the night, sitting on the floor in the near dark, flirting and bantering as hours swept by.

I was nineteen then. We did the same routine for the next three years, moving closer to each other and then further away again, pushing and testing limits and boundaries. There were outstanding complications that kept us from taking anything to the next level—we had boyfriends at different times and our jobs complicated things—but we kept up our usual repartee for all those years.

I think I fell for him. I may even have fallen in love with him, but it’s hard to tell now what exactly those feelings added up to.

Fast-forward to this summer. All of our complications are gone. We’re free to be who we want to be and do what we want to do.

A couple weeks ago we were at a club downtown, having drinks and dancing the night away, and we got on the dance floor together. Our bodies collided, his hands ran over my body, and I closed my eyes.

He leaned in and said, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” I asked.

And then he kissed me, softly. Then again, more insistent, more urgent. Then again. And again.

I kissed back.

I spent the night at his apartment, wrapped up in blankets and his arms (though things stayed innocent).

Then a few days later I got a short, curt e-mail from him. “Uh, I’m going to be really busy this summer,” he said. “I have all these friends who want to see me and work is really crazy and everything so, uhm, I hope you understand and everything.”

I stared at the computer screen. I read the e-mail again. Then I threw my head back and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Oh my God, I thought, after all this time? What a cold way to say it, what a cowardly way to do it. I laughed some more. Then I snapped my laptop shut and walked away.

So now I’m moving on from John. It feels good to let go of something that preoccupied my mind and my time for so long. It feels like a breath of freedom, like the promise of something new is just beyond the bend.

Is This Movie Going to Suck?

Don’t get me wrong. I loved the musical Rent. Well, I loved it at least the first few times it came through town. I bought the Rent soundtrack the day it came out when I was in junior high and faithfully memorized every word with my best friend at the time, Brent. (How gay is that, right?)

Anyway, now ten years later Sony has made Rent into a movie. The trailer for the movie has been floating around the web and I’ve watched it a couple times. Each time I scrutinize the words, the images, the actors, and the music, and damn it if I can’t quite tell if the movie is going to suck or not.

What do you think?

Watch the trailer here and then give me your verdict.

For more on the movie, visit Sony.com/rent.

A Mighty Good Night

Josh H. (left) and Josh K. (right) at The Restaurant

Josh and I hit the town tonight and went out to dinner with our friend Dan at The Restaurant in downtown Minneapolis. We gorged ourselves on the gourmet food (I double gorged) and talked and laughed over drinks.

Dan, besides being tall, charming, and sweet, is also the mastermind behind the blog Mighty. Check it out.

And, if any of you want to come and play, we’ll all be at Jitters this Sunday between 6 and 9 p.m. for an off the hook benefit for the Minneapolis gay softball league, which just happens to be the third largest gay softball league in the country (with more than 500 players).

It was a mighty good night with finger-lickin’ good food. You can hardly go wrong with that.

Hot Reads for a Cool Summer

Smart Book: Three Junes by Julia Glass
Never mind the fact that this is Julia Glass’s debut novel and yet it managed to win the National Book Award and become a worldwide bestseller that earned critical acclaim across the board and has accolades written by Michael Cunningham and Richard Russo on the back cover. Screw the hype. Let's talk about the book.

Three Junes bursts at the seam with life. Glass’s writing is crisp, clean, precise, and ultimately very telling. With very few words she says more than many authors do in entire novels. The economy of her writing is astonishing and beautiful. It's like a breath of fresh air.

This is not a snooty, highbrow read that takes a hundred pages to “get into.” This one will have you enthralled in the first dozen pages.

Following the McLeod family from Scotland to Greece to Greenwich Village, Glass brings you in like the closest of friends and shares with you her characters, their people, their homes, their lives. I found myself opening up the book sometimes just so I could go back and spend more time with her characters. There are moments so beautiful and perfect in Three Junes that I actually had to put the book down and stop for a while just to think about what I just read.

To bottom line it: This book is "the shit" and you must read it. If you don’t like it, you should stop reading altogether, because you’re never going to find anything you will like. End of story.

Fun Book: The Trouble Boy by Tom Dolby
On the flip side, Tom Dolby’s Trouble Boy won’t be winning any awards anytime soon, but it’s a fantastic piece of afternoon entertainment. Take this fucker with you on the subway, at the beach, in the car, and to the café for a light, fun, juicy read. (Also, look at the author photo to drool over the considerably doable Tom Dolby. Really.)

Dolby’s novel follows Toby Griffin, a twenty-something writer, as he moves to Manhattan to hopefully land a screenplay deal and a boyfriend in the Big Apple.

Before you start thinking that this is the same old tired trash, let me assure you that it’s a full cut above the rest of the material in its category. The writing isn’t always perfect, but it certainly has bright moments and it’s obviously been edited, unlike some gay books on the market.

For a while the book seemed to be hitting every tired cliché on the block, but Dolby smacked down my expectations when he turned much of it on its head during the course of his fast-paced novel.

To bottom line it: If you’re looking for a good, fun, gay summer read, this is it. Stick it in your messenger bag next to your lip balm and have yourself a gay old time.

What Josh K. Will Be Reading This Summer

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by British author Susanna Clarke, is, if nothing else, a lesson in tactful old English syntax and manners (Clarke writes in the style so well that, only 20 pages in, I caught myself casually saying things like "I daresay" or "rather odd").

But the book is so much more than a fun foray into a mid-19th century grammar school. It is, at its core, a Harry Potter for adults that follows the incredible journey of two quirky men who try to bring magic back to England and save the motherland from a nasty war. It's amazingly smart, funny, and touching without resorting to the smarmy, saccharine narrative plots that J.K. Rowling writes for Potter.

Bottom line: If you like Harry Potter but want something a little smarter, you'll love Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, which, incidentally, just came out in paperback (so you have no excuse not to buy it).

Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Puncuation, written by British grammar guru Lynne Truss, is an instant classic and my new favorite. Josh H. thinks I'm crazy for calling this a good beach read, but I'm sticking to my guns when I say that a) nothing excites me more than a perfectly placed semi-colon, b) nothing angers me more than a misplaced apostrophe, and c) by god, I'd kill to be tanning on the beach while learning punctuation skillZ.

The good thing is that the book is laugh-out-loud hilarious and, between the jokes and anecdotes, Truss still finds the time to teach the reader a painless lesson or two. Read it and you will soon be looking in the newspaper for mistakes Truss (and you, hopefully) would never make. Notice I said newspaper and not Josh & Josh Are Rich and Famous.

Post-LSAT Therapy

My favorite girl, Miss Vanja (pronounced VAHN-yuh), took the LSAT exam today and we decided to go out for dinner and drinks tonight to celebrate her fabulous achievement. Once upon a time I, too, was planning to go to law school and took the Princeton Review LSAT prep course and all of that (scary as hell) stuff, so she knew I'd understand what a big deal it really was to survive the LSAT and come out alive on the other side.

We hit Uptown with the plan of going to Figlio's, but when we got to Uptown we discovered that the power was out for several blocks and that many of the local businesses had closed early for the night. Thus we got in my car, called The Restaurant, and landed a table at the packed establishment. (Yes, packed even on a Monday at 10 p.m.) We immediately ordered drinks and a bevy of food and laughed the night away.

And, yes, we're wearing the same outfit in male/female versions. That happens to us a lot and it is never, ever planned. It's safe to say that Vanja is the woman that I would be had I been born with a rack (she's got a great one) and the other assorted matching private parts.

Surviving the Suburbs: BackHOE!

On Sunday afternoon, while Josh H. was at his parents' Sprawling Surburban Estate reading a lofty book in the grass, I was at my dad's Sprawling Suburban Estate practicing my backhoeing skills.

Now, I don't usually like to operate heavy machinery (ahem!) because I'm so accident-prone, but my dad was so proud of his new toy that it would have hurt his feelings if I passed at the opportunity. So I obliged his request that I dig him a hole while he snapped a few photos of me.

Later, I sat in awe as my dad showed me another new toy of his: a spinning brush attachment to his Bobcat that he used to rid the driveway of a pile of mud. Mind you, I was awed not by the capabilites of the Bobcat's new attachment but, instead, because I am now 100% positive that my mom had an affair with the mailman.

Surviving the Suburbs: How to Spend a Sunday Afternoon

This afternoon I grabbed a novel and a pair of flip-flops and padded out to the backyard. I sprawled out on the plush carpeting of grass on our gently sloping hill and opened my book. A light breath of a breeze rattled the leaves of the nearby oak trees and the sound of a lawn mower buzzed in the distance.

My toes absentmindedly toyed with blades of grass as I read. The sounds of splashing and high-pitched children’s laughter from a distant neighbor’s pool served as a kind of summer white noise. The lawn, baking in the afternoon sun, sent up a hot, sweet, musky scent.

The sun warmed the back of my legs. My toes curled and uncurled. The steady chuck, chuck, chucking of a neighbor digging in her flowerbeds, hands gloved and hair carefully tied back, continued. I turned the pages of my book and read a passage written with such perfection that I had to set the book down and close my eyes. I lifted my head and took a deep breath.

This, I thought, is the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

MJ & K-Mart

Question: What do Michael Jackson and K-mart have in common?

Answer: They both have boys' pants half off.

Sonogram

Ms. Britney Spears had her first sonogram yesterday and, insiders report, Britney cried when she first saw her little baby on the sonogram monitor.

Several sources inside the Spears camp leaked the news that Britney's tears upon seeing her baby were actually tears of relief, knowing that the baby had to be hers and Kevin's. She knew the baby was theirs, insiders report, because the baby's legs were behind its head.

Yesterday, I Almost Died

I knew I was in need of a day off when I called Josh H. with news of my imminent early death.

"Are you serious?" he asked, skeptical of my condition.

"Yes, Josh. I think I have Lyme Disease. And I have this weird swollen lymph node in my left armpit that aches a little bit and that tiny tan bump on my leg isn't going away and, Josh, I'm think I'm dying. I know I am. And I'm having two root canals, Josh. TWO. And I have a headache."

"Josh, you're not dying and you don't have skin or armpit cancer, Lyme Disease, or anything else. How much sleep have you been getting?"

"Not much. And it's Cancer of the Armpit, Josh. That's what they'll call it after I succumb to it," I said, quickly realizing that maybe all I needed was a nap.

But, seriously: two root canals? Who's great idea was that?

Gettin' Sporty With My Sistah

Tonight my nine-year-old sister asked me if I'd play basketball with her. (Okay, so technically she's my step-sister, but we're close, so usually I just drop the "step" business.) I had brief flashbacks of junior high physical education classes but, after we grabbed two basketballs and hit the court in our driveway and just started playing, we managed to have a pretty good time. Check out how my little sister is really committing to that shot. She's hardcore. And, hey, I even made my shot in the picture above.

And don't you love that I'm playing basketball in a khakis and flip-flops? Just keepin' it real, y'all. Just keepin' it real.