Just Giblets

I’m a little surprised to learn from MakeMeBabies.com that if Michael and I made a baby, it would be Indian.

Here’s the visual proof. Isn’t Baby Giblets adorable?

Scot’s butt is on the line… literally, at the Prime Meridian in Greenwich England.

So, Neil Patrick Harris is gay.  We all know this.  We all know that he’s also one of our current “it boys” — seemingly able to do no wrong whether he’s playing straight on TV (How I Met Your Mother) or at the movies (Harold & Kumar) or doing the song and dance thing with Joss Whedon (Dr. Horrible’s Sing-along Blog) or whatever he wants to do.  So why is there now this little backlash over at Gawker stating that’s he’s “too straight?”  More, why am I hearing about it for the first time on one of my comics blogs where the Occasional Superheroine takes issues with Gawker’s post?  Both sides actually have merit to their argument, and I am at a loss as to where I fall.  Guess it depends on the time of day.  Bravo for Mr. Harris’ success, and it’s always nice to see more successful gay people in the entertainment business.    And come on, he looks pretty hot on that Out Magazine cover.

It’s actually 9 am. Did you know that? We’re heading to London today and trying to get acclimated before we arrive. It’s a little disorienting, to say the least, especially when you watch this dude doing a hilarious Patti impersonation! (Thanks to Marc Acito.)

And this reminds me that I never finished talking about the weird experience of seeing my friend Susan as a star and character in Broadway’s [title of show]! Well, I guess I missed the moment. Just go see the show, whatever you do. It’s wicked awesome and proves what I’ve known for over 20 years: Susan Blackwell is a goddess that [sic] should be worshipped and adored.

Okay, so this has probably been proposed by someone else and launched and failed miserably. But what the hell? I am all about the fool-making.

Why don’t we start a social networking site all about making connections with people we can’t stand? No, really. You log on, search for “Sharon Krafts” and then tag her as a “genial co-worker on the other side of a labor dispute” or whatever. We can define many sorts of work relationships. Or love relationships. Or family relationships. But the idea is that we don’t like these people. And we can get explicit confirmation that they dislike us as well.

What do you think?

Ever wonder what you would look like after a face lift? Don’t. Below are my before-and-after results from LiftMagic.com. I look like a frickin alien, no? To be fair, I did crank up every possible “enhancement” to 100%, but this confirmed one thing for me. You cannot improve on the perfection of my beautiful face. (Ha.)

Ah-aight, y’all. Everyone who told me “You have to see Zardoz because you love bad movies!” has lots of ’splaining to do. Chadd, Marlin, etc. — you really must think I don’t know how to watch a film, cause if you think this is bad… whoa. We need to have a talk.

How can anyone dislike this film? Number one: Sean Connery in nothing more than a red diaper for over half the film. Less than this picture shows. This was his fancy costume. No crap. And he trims no body hair. It actually makes a poignant point in the film, but I leave you to discover that. I don’t want to spoil the fun of the erection scene.

Number two: Young Charlotte Rampling had boobs. And she wasn’t shy about sharing them. Of course, neither was any other English actress in the 70’s, it seems, but whatever.

Number three: This film looks like I imagine most every novel or short story by Philip Jose Farmer, Ted Sturgeon, James Tiptree, or the senile Robert Heinlein of the 80’s, bless his freakishly polyamorous conservative soul. It’s just that weird. Remember the PBS version of The Lathe of Heaven? This is so much more, but it’s all about capturing that same feeling.

Number four: Well, there’s the title and why I’ll be shelving it where I will be shelving it.

Number five: There is a fantastic scene where Zed wakes the apathetics. It includes lots of same-sex kissing. A couple of girl-girl ones, of course, but even a boy-boy one! Remarkable for 1974!

Number six: Did I mention Sean Connery in the red diaper? Dude seems so proud of his hairy Scottish ass. Awesome.

Need I say any more than that? See http://manbabies.com. (Thanks to Bitter Cup of Joe for making me lie awake all night with this image in my head. WTF, indeed.)

… when YouTube is down!

Michael just got home (at six a.m., ugh) from San Francisco where he’d spent several days at a library conference. I really turn into a worthless slug when he’s away and can’t sleep very well. And this time was compounded by a mysterious sore throat, achiness, and fatigue. Not sure if it was a cold or allergies.

But the one good thing about being a temporary bachelor is that I get to shop for groceries Michael would never eat. Here’s a partial list from my Sunday afternoon excursion:

Hostess Cupcakes, chocolate
TGI Fridays’ Cheddar and Bacon Potato Skins
Wonder Bread
American Cheese Slices, the orange kind
Turkey and Ham Hot Pockets, now with more meat
Fritos
Fritos Bean Dip
Ham and Swiss Lunchables
Turkey and American Lunchables, the orange kind
Totino’s Pepperoni Pizza Rolls, 90 count

“Um, he’s eight. But he’s only visiting for a few days. I just have to keep him happy till Thursday.”