Our upstairs neighbor, Rick, who moved here not so long ago from San Fran, is part of some online strip show. An AIDS organization, Test Positive Awareness Network, has a bunch of bar wenches from local watering holes on its site. I guess each of them took a bunch of pics in various states of undress. The more money a bartender rakes in, the more nakeder he or she gets.

Rick calls and tells me about the site, and says that he and one other guy are far and away the leaders of the pack. When i check it out, i see that the other guy giving him a run for the money is none other...than Matador!

So open your pocketbooks, peeps. It's for a good cause: PORN!

Click here: chicagotakesoff.net.

One of our darling baristas at Pause likes to cut out a horoscope column from the paper. The astrologer's name is Holiday Mathis, but of course Duke and i renamed her Holiday Mantis. It just has a delightfully sinister ring to it. We've started calling our barista Holiday Mantis now, once we decided that she's psychic.

She's run with it, the sweet thing, and plays our reindeer games. I asked her to come up with a 2009 prediction for each zodiac sign. She came in one day with a sign she made up with fortune cookie-style horoscopes for the year (complete with a corresponding drink).

It's going to be an okay year financially for us Taureans -- we'll weather this economic storm, as long as we learn to compromise.

I just asked Duke what it said about Libras. He doesn't even remember! He's OBviously not as big a fan as yours truly. I have a sneaking suspicion he might even be a Muggle! I suppose we can't all be wizards or witches.

You know who IS, though? Good ol' Mema (who, you might recall, goes by the advice-doling alias Razmelinda). Well, now she's got yet another split personality: Madam Minerva, a wise(ass) clairvoyant who knows the secrets of the stars.

Here's her new column. Tell me it's not the best collection of horrorscopes you've ever read!

Flashes of Brillance

 by Madam Minerva  (alias joann duke)

 

 

Aries – March 21 – April 19

You are a warrior, a fighter…..which is the reason you can’t sleep.  You count sheep but when you get to nine, you jump up! 

 

Taurus – April 20 – May 20

You are brave….too brave sometimes….remember what the Eskimos say….never pet a bear unless it’s a rug.

 

Gemini – May 21 – June 20

Ah the twins….which reminds me, a twin came home from a late date and told her sister, “we’re not identical anymore”.

 

Cancer – June 21 – July 22

Keep focused….today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday, but not enough.

 

Leo – July 23 – August 22

You are a born leader – one  who forms committees consisting of a group of the unwilling, picked from the unfit, to do the unnecessary.

 

Virgo – August 23 – September 22

You are a born Economist – An expert who knows tomorrow why the things they predicted yesterday didn’t happen.

 

Libra – September 23 – October 22

You are a true lover, but a homebody.  Anybody’s home.

 

Scorpio – October 23 – November 21

Be better with your hygiene ….remember what one skunk said to another “so do you!”

 

Sagittarius – November 22 – December 21

You have enough money for the rest of your life….unless you buy something.

 

Capricorn – December 22 – January 19

You are an adventurous but stubborn person ….just remember a cat might have nine lives but a bullfrog croaks every time!

 

Aquarius – January 20 –February 18

You love to sing and you have a great voice, Unfortunately it’s in someone else’s throat.

 

Pisces – February 19 – March 20

You worry too much about aging.  You are not getting wrinkles, it’s possible that your skin is turning into corduroy.

"So where are you moving?"

It's a strange thing for Michael to be asking me, and it takes me by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Saul Tomorrow (editor's note: that's not quite his real name) wants to know when your going-away party is."

"Why is Saul so crazy?" i ask.

"He just is," Michael sighs, impatiently. "So you're not moving?"

And then it clicks. An hour or so ago, Saul had posted some cryptic comment on my Xanga blog, asking if i had a job yet and is he the last one moving to NYC, or some such nonsense like that. I realized he was actually commenting on Gal Cock's blog post about Natalie moving to the Big Apple Core. I'm not sure how i got mixed up with Nats in Saul's muddled brain, but there you have it.

Not so later in the day, Quiche emails me, asking when my going-away party is. I tell him the only thing i'm doing is retiring from the social scene. Visits with people who have kids make my late-30something homo lifestyle seem depressingly frivilous. Maybe it's the fact that i've been sick since Christmas Eve (ear infection, though i'm now on antibiotics), but the idea of going to yet another bar to get drunk yet again with my too-loud too-violent chums has utterly, finally, lost its appeal.

"So when's the retirement party?" Quiche asks.

Did any of you "call in gay" today? While i like the idea of a gay boycott, i just didn't see the point of not going to work today. I guess i'm feeling deflated after the media blackout of the Prop 8 protest. Plus, and i know this is really kooky, but i actually enjoy going to work.

My roomie David Jacob bailed on work today, but he decreed that Duke and i could work -- as long as we didn't spend any money today.

I gotta tell you: It's really hard not buying anything. Pathetic that may be, but it's true.

I wanted to go to Powell's to see if i could find some used copies of the books i need for Young Adult Resources and Lit.

Oh, wait. I can't buy anything today.

Ooo! I need to get a wreath holder for my door.

Oh, right. Can't spend money today.

I love that X-Men Angel comic and want to get the rest of the series.

...Tomorrow, i guess.

We should go to Jewel and pick up some stuff for dinner.

Or, we could scrounge around our cupboards and see what we've got here. (Answer: edamame)

If you think it'd be easy not buying anything all day (and of course morning coffee at Pause didn't count!), give it a go. I triple dog dare you. You'll see. We're hopeless consumers, and that's all there is to it.

Two men pass on the Argyle el platform. One is getting off the train, one is getting on. They greet each other and the guy getting on the train smiles and he's missing a front tooth. He's staggering and it looks like he might African-American out he's so wasted.

"Where you goin'?" the man getting off asks the man getting on.

"Work!" he mumbles, laughing.

Dubya's sister gave him a softball interview for the Library of Congress' oral history collection.

How 'bout this gem?

“I have recognized I am a lowly sinner seeking redemption,” he said. But the greatness of America, he said, “is that you can worship or not worship and be equally American. And it doesn’t matter how you choose to worship; you’re equally American.”

Really? Gee, thanks, Dubya.

Wonder if he'd say i was "equally American" -- though i can't marry, but that's another story -- if he knew that the religion that appeals most to me is WITCHCRAFT.

God, Yahweh, Earth Mother, &c., i won't miss him. At all.

One of Chicago's free alt-weeklies, the Reader, has a column called Hot Type, written by Michael Miner, in which he analyzes the media. After the press coverage of the Prop 8 protest was near-invisible, i shot off this email to him:

Help me, Michael Miner. You're my only hope!

I was one of thousands of protesters who rallied in Chicago over the weekend to fight against Proposition 8. Isn't this the first time that rights that were granted were then snatched away? The rally in Chicago was one of many simultaneous demonstrations across the country.

The protest began in a pen of sorts at Federal Plaza. Everyone was quite civilized, and once it ended, we all filed in an orderly fashion through a narrow exit. We stuck to the sidewalks and even obeyed red lights. By the time we got to Michigan Ave, though, by Millie Park (my cute, made-up name for Millennium Park), we decided it was time to take to the streets.

We closed off traffic for hours, weaving our way through downtown, and ignoring the cops who tried to steer us down Wacker, opting instead for the drama of a tourist-filled Mag Mile. The city's police force certainly underestimated us.

I eagerly awaited the press coverage of the event. Now, i have to admit that i don't buy newspapers anymore (does anyone?), but from what i could tell, there wasn't a single photo of the event -- and hardly any mention, aside from an AP story that ran across the country.

Can you tell me why this story got ignored? I question what is considered newsworthy anymore. The protest was peaceful, and at the time i was feeling empowered and optimistic -- i had let go of the shame and anger that had been a part of the national psyche for eight long years.

Well, now i'm pissed again. Just as i felt such pride at Obama's election, i felt shame about the anti-gay measures that swept the nation. Now the adrenaline rush of the demonstration has turned into frustration. Why would the local media choose to silence all of those voices?

Inquiring minds,

Matthew M. Wright
Uptown

I know baby pics can make many a grownup nauseous, so i've warned you right there in the title. No bitchin', betches!

MacGuire is an angel, especially when compared to how his big brother was as a baby!

Me and the bride, my cousin, Wendy.

Mac spent lots of time by the water.

 
A trip into an artsy little town, where we met some nice lesbians who told us there are lots of trannies thereabouts.

That's my brother, Chris. He's gonna be 40 at New Year's.

 
Grey's at a great age -- you can have full conversations with him (and he does whatever silly things his uncles tell him to do.)

MacGuire, on the other hand, at only two months, just blinked and drooled.

Grey trying on his Uncle Matty's sunglasses. I think they're cool and so does he -- though Duke refers to them as my "lady shades."

And here's how i spent most of the reception...at least until my mom came over and put the kibosh on the swinging, worried that i'd rip Greyson's arms out of socket. Sheesh! Grannies, i tell ya!

hope you enjoyed this spin through Memory Lane.

 
I just wasn't feeling the Halloween spirit this year. Sad, i know. Duke thinks it's cuz we were so excited about dressing all '70s for Michael and Quiche's Disco Bloodbath. Nothing inspired me. I ended up regretting not playing the game, but fun was had nonetheless. Of course. That's how we roll, betches. That's how we roll.

This frightening concoction was part of David's scary goblin. Duke and i tried it on for kicks.

Even the prospect of carving a jack-o'-lantern didn't excite me. Duke and i waited til the night before All Hallow's to get pumpykins, and Whole Foods had crappy overpriced ones, and this was literally the only one left at Jewel that wasn't rotting. I carved it outside in about three minutes. I reached into its mouth and pulled the innards through, hoping to make it look like he was puking.

A few days later, i saw one of our squirrel friends munching away on the pumpkin seeds. Aww!

Alex Ross wanted to get ready at our house -- it has become a tradition, and it was cute of everyone to continue it.

It's always kind of chaotic, with people running around doing the last-minute touches on their costumes and applying makeup.

Ages ago, Duke and i found this abandoned unicorn in the alley. Okay, it wasn't a real live unicorn -- it was a little girl's costume. There was what looked like a shit schmear on it.

"We shouldn't take that ... should we?" i asked.

"Of COURSE we should," Duke exclaimed. Sometimes he can be such a bad influence.

The costume sat in our back room for months, and we considered tossing it many times. But Duke decided he'd try it out for Halloween, spot-treated that nastiness, washed it -- and it was good as new. I mean, let's face it: It was probably only worn once -- albeit by someone into scat.

He tried the onesie on -- but, having been made for a little girl, it didn't quite fit. So he got out the scissors and cut it in half. It ended up looking fun when paired with white pants and a white T-shirt. He was a big hit out -- everyone wanted to pet the pretty unicorn.

I went to the dollar store and bought some cheapass knight costume accoutrements, but on Halloween night, i couldn't find my helmet, so i had to wear a knit cap and looked pretty lame. Ah, well.

Sebastian and Alex were fantastic as Sarah Palin and a meth'ed-up pregnant Bristol. They carried around this horrific baby doll they had beaten and burned and made gimpy-eyed.

The shotgun was a nice touch, eh? We all knew Seb could rock drag, but everytime we looked at Alex, we kept thinking, "Jeez, he's such a pretty girl!"

Here Bristol is fixing baby Trig's hair, Palin-style:

It's not easy being so pretty, though. Look what she had to go through to get to the end result:

The freaky goblin took Luke for a quick walk, and we were out the door. Of course we had to take the el. Public transportation in costume is the best.

Most of the people on the Red Line were amused by us. They dude next to me, though, was most assuredly not. If he had a gun, he'd've opened fire.

This hottie was laughing at us the whole time. Alex, of course, was being scandalous. He asked if she was Britney Spears and the chick actually said no. I mean, i abhor most pop, but even i know that airplane video, "Noxious," or whatevs.

"I like your titties," Alex told the whorish flight attendent (redundant, i know). "I love boobs."

"It's okay for him to say that," i assured her, not wanting her to feel objectified -- though, let's face it, she was totally asking for it in that outfit. "He's gay." But then i realized he was in costume, so i amended it and said, "I mean, she's a she."

Quick stop at a convenience mart liquor store, where i took one of my fave shots of the night. There's just something so wrong seeing that Thing in a public space.

We were too late for the actual Boystown Parade, but i prefer wandering the streets afterward anyway.

The gang descended upon Halsted Street.

THE PLAYERS:

Sonya Sylvia, WITCH
Michael, THE LIVING DOLL ("I dressed how my soul looks inside," he said.)
Me, THE KNIGHT, Sir Lame-alot
Catty, JOE SIX-PACK
Alex, BRISTOL PALIN
Sebastian, SARAH PALIN (She stored her cigarettes up baby Trig's ass. Another nice touch.)
Duke, UNICORN
David Jacob, GOLDEN GOBLIN from a Chemical Brothers video

...to be continued...

Good morning!

It IS a good morning, isn't it?

McCain gets beaten by Obama!

Yikes! It was a tough campaign, wasn't it?

Turns out my assumption that this was the beginning of the end of the American Empire has been proven wrong. I am retiring my black veil. No more mourning -- it's a time for celebration. History has been made (well, the good kind of history, not the worst-president-ever type of history we've been dealing with for eight years).

Instantly, our credibility worldwide has risen.

Instantly, we have shown America to truly be a land of opportunity.

For the first time in a long, long time, i'm proud to be an American. (Let's all sing that country song, shall we?)

I actually had class last night, and as my teacher lectured on the mind-numbingly boring Dewey Decimal System, i obsessively kept checking interactive election return maps on the web. It was taking too long. I was frustrated. And then McCain lost Ohio. I think we all knew it then, but it was too soon to truly believe it.

Duke and i finally parked ourselves on the sofa and watched some of the coverage on the TV. I had finally gotten my ticket to the Grant Park Obamarama fest -- at three fuckin' o'clock on Election Day. We had already decided not to be a part of that clusterfuck anyway. The city closed off an insane amount of streets -- from Cermak in Chinatown up the river and over to the expressway. To put this in perspective, it would take you about two hours to walk from Chinatown to the river.

Get this, though -- guess who WAS a part of that historic event? Peter effin' Michaelfi. The dude who doesn't even vote. He said he was feeling the magic of it all, though it might just have been the chick next to him tripping on acid.

At any rate, adorable Brian Williams (Duke scoffs and says, "Crooked nose") announced that the polls would be closing in ten minutes -- and i popped up and shouted to Duke, "Let's go to Big Chicks!" As we headed out the door, we heard a talking head say, "We haven't called the election yet, but at least one other station has declared Obama the winner!"

We rush next door and as we we're walking in this cute girl asks, "Have you heard? It's official!" and the bar's not overly crowded and people are cheering and Duke and i give the girl a big hug.

We have a couple of beers and chat with Michelle, the owner, and watch McCain's gracious concession speech -- did Democrats boo during Kerry's and Gore's speeches? -- and my eyes water up a bit as Obama takes the stage. He's such an amazing speaker, but that bulletproof box they had him in was a bit disconcerting. Though i have to say i was nervous at first, until i realized he was in his own impenetrable Pope Mobile.

Here's our fearless leader-to-be, ready to defend our country like a blockbuster action hero.

And this morning i get up an hour early cuz i can't sleep and i lay in bed, looking at the election results on my laptop, going state by state. Ohio! Florida! North Carolina is evenly split! Indiana looks like it went blue! If you study the county-by-county breakdowns, you'll see that in Ohio, for example, the bigger cities are what turned the state. There are tiny pools of blue amidst the Big Cs -- Columbus, Cleveland, Cincinnati. Large cities make people more open-minded.

Undeniably, race was a factor. I'm glad we rose above all doubts, though.

I have to say, i like 'Bama better with a lovely cocoa coloring.

So there is much to celebrate this fine, sunny morning here in Chicago. Yet, on the same night that our first black president elect mentions us homos in his acceptance speech, gay marriage was banned in Arizona and Florida, adoption by gay couples was banned in Arkansas, and California's dreaded Proposition 8, which would make gay marriage illegal, remains undecided. My cousin Wendy, who has a lesbian aunt, said that those who already got married would still be grandfathered in. Guess you can't rescind rights you've already granted. Good news for Ellen and Portia.

And Mi Ma Mains and Ginorelli, of course.