Obama's Inauguration is on Tuesday!!!

President Obama will be sworn in on Tuesday. He will become the 44th President of the United States of America. He will be sworn in using Lincoln's Bible. That is pretty fitting since Lincoln was also an Illinois politician and a leader who had to overcome a lot to hold the nation together. Lincoln ended slavery for Christ's sake. And it's also fitting that the inauguration will be the day after Martin Luther King, Jr Day. His dream was racial equality. It's only fitting that President Obama will be sworn in. He's from Illinois, like the man who ended slavery, and he will be the first African American president in American history. Obama is, in effect, the realization of MLK Jr's dream.

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.