Why I Oughtta

Apparently, this dog belongs to a friend of a friend.

Wait for it.

My brother and I are very different in general.  We don’t look alike.  We’re interested in different things.  He likes girls.  He’s very bookish and academic while I’m very… TV blog.

In any case, sometimes we do share a certain comic sensibility.

Here’s the backstory on this: My brother has never liked animals. I wanted one my whole life. Still do, in fact. When I was little, I wanted to be a dog when I grew up. That never really materialized, but I am still best motivated by food and belly rubs.

In any case, my sister-in-law, much to my brother’s chagrin, is also a dog-lover and launched a get-a-dog campaign. Meanwhile, she also launched a let’s-move-from-Virginia-to-Maryland campaign.

Soon enough, a deal was struck. If my brother agreed to buy a house in Maryland, they would never own a dog. Cut to the chase, they moved to Maryland. My brother is very pleased with the way this turned out.

Fast forward to the recent past, my brother was getting his new driver’s license when he created this on his laptop using their engagement photo and MS Paint (his preferred method of art, if you recall).

Here’s a video of some jubilant gay folks waiting to hear about the California gay marriage ruling. Wait for it at the 3:30 mark.

My article about Los Campesinos! in The Washington Post.

Dear gay ads on MySpace, blogs and various other sites,

You are slowly killing me.

Love,

DAN

I got this subscription to this awful gay magazine called Genre a while ago.  It was supposed to last for a trial three months, but has lasted for more than a year at this point.

It is awful. A supremely awful thing this magazine is. The cover is always an anonymous model (we are never introduced to him because it really does not matter — why pretend that it does?) who is wearing as little as possible yet barely enough to avoid being labeled pornography.

It’s wholly depressing, but that is not the point.

The point is that this evening I was drinking with my roommate, doing Mad Libs with words culled from various magazines.  We tried to pull them from her editions of Foreign Policy and The Economist to no avail (I was hoping they would end up really dry and funny — they ended up up very clunky), but it turns out that when you get your words from Genre it yields instant Mad Libs success!!!!!

Here is the Mad Lib we created with the Genre words bolded:

A TOUR OF HOLLYWOOD

Good morning, ladies and packages, boys and adult movies.

My name is Sean Cody. I am your personal Mountain Dew guide. For the next six hours, we will delight in exploring romantic, strong-looking Hollywood, the glamour audience of the world.

Let’s start off with a bang and visit Mann’s erotic Chinese Theater, Hollywood’s most tanned tourist attraction. Etched in cement, you’ll see the foot genitals and the leg prints of the most famous male prison guards ever to adorn the home gym screen. Then it’s only a hop, skip and a flaunt to Beverly Hills, the playground of the rich and sumptuous. You will feast your arms on the million-dollar ass circuses of movie stars. You’ll actually get to visit the home of today’s hottest rump – Calvin Klein — who will sign autographs for the low, low sum of $19.95.

And here’s the big one! For lunch, we’ll be going to the studio commissary, where you can rub pecs with today’s leading actors and actresses.

All aboard!

Eugene Mirman is coming to town! Woo hoo!

Like Maria Bamford, he’s coming to the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse. I’m sending out a cattle call for anyone who’s interested to contact me post haste.  He has two shows the weekend of May 31.

Here’s him riffing on Canada. Meanwhile, “riffing on Canada” should be a euphemism for some sort of sex act.

Justin sings at Solly’s!

When he’s famous, I’ll ask him to get me backstage at Bonnaroo.

When older than you tells you their age, saying that they are “very well preserved” is not often received well.

Dear lady-fashion trend of wearing a dress with a big honking belt tied around the middle,
I’ve never liked you.

You remind me of the 1980s, but not in a fun “Remember how great ALF was!?” kind of way.  In an side-ponytail, fluorescent pink, crunchy bangs kind of way.

I take umbrage to your influencing young ladies to wear long tunics and tights.  Basically, what this mean is that girls are going around without wearing pants — and it’s all your fault.

I like the fact that you’re trying to accentuate feminine hips, but this is not the way.

When I see you, I do not say “Wow, look at those bodacious curves.” What I say is, “Wow, that is a huge fucking belt!”

I think Lindsay Lohan is to blame for this.

However, I do think that this trend is on its way out, yes?  But whatever.  Los Angeles will soon give us something else that is awful.

C’est la vie.

DAN