Also, We Saw Adam Brody Sitting Near Us At Coachella And We Almost Pooped In Our Camouflage Capris.

While we were in Palm Springs this weekend, something happened to us that we find tends to occur quite often. On our trip was a nice young blonde girl from Queens. From the minute we arrived, she was very friendly to us. Even a little bit affectionate. A day into the trip, we found ourselves squished together on the drive to Palm Springs in a limo (it really must have been recently recycled from prom season – there were stars on the ceiling that gently changed color, and “The Dukes of Hazzard” was playing on loop on flatscreens). Suddenly, the girl reached out and squeezing our arm, startling us out of a daydream that involved singing in the Broadway finale of a “Tommy.”

BIGMOUTH: “What’s up?”
DITZYBLONDE: “I’m sorry! It’s just, well, I have to tell you. You really remind me so much of-"
BM: “Let us guess. Your best guy friend?”
DB: “Yeah! My best friend Dwayne from high school! We were on Model UN together. Something about you is just like him!”
BM: “Was he gay?”
DB: “Um… No, I don’t think so…”
BM: “We guarantee you: The kid’s a fag, and the thing about us that reminds you of him is gayness.”
DB: “Oh my.”

Does this ever happen to you? Girls you’ve just met tell you that you remind them SO MUCH of their gay best friends? It does to us, constantly. We wonder if this ever happens to other minorities. Like, do you think Gary Coleman is walking around getting constantly told, “Oh my God! You look just like my friend Mini Jamal!”?

If You Can Make It There, You Can Make It Anywhere The Weather Is Nice For 11 Months Out Of The Year.

Sorry we didn't post yesterday, but we were flying out to LA! As we type, we are sitting in a bathrobe on our amazing bed at the Viceroy in Santa Monica, looking out at the beach where we are about to go walking after our room service finally gets here. We love it here! But it's a bit lonely by ourselves. (Why do we always travel alone? We're not even trying to get our groove back!) We looked on Craigslist for company, but apparently they're only interested in one thing.

So last night we went to the Abbey, for the first time in our lives. If you haven't been, it's sort of like Bowery Bar. Crossed with Benihana. Frankly, it's sort of nice to go to a huge gay club that isn't in an abandoned warehouse, church or roller rink. Our feet didn't stick to the floor, the place didn't smell like an armpit, and it actually appeared as though women were welcome there (thanks for coming Bella Wilfer!). Also, we saw that lady from Bravo's "Work Out."

Tonight we're going to Palm Springs. We hear there are no gay people there except for pool boys and the ghost of Liberace. At last, some odds we can handle!

They Have Pretty Boy Models In This Magazine? We Would Never Have Noticed, We Get It Cause Of The Political Commentary...

We came across this Letter to the Editor while in the bathroom the other day...just though we would share.

With its fashion, pop culture, sophistication, and pretty-boy models, Details has always been friendly to gay men, but every issue lately seems to get even gayer, what with all the articles on gay culture and the recurring "Gay Or" feature. Hey, I have no problem with gay people. I just want to know - as a straight man - is Details still for me, too?

Ben - Merchantville, NJ

The proper response?

Dearest Ben,

No.

Love,
The Editor

P.S. "Sophistication?" WTF?

WHY YOU ARE GAY: Anne of Green Gables

When you were a “young adult,” you had lots of books to choose from. You could read Christopher Pike, and get the caca scared out of you by the same horror plot over and over. You could discover touching tales of rural life, like “Where the Red Fern Grows,” “Hatchet,” and “My Side Of The Mountain.” Or you could slog through those large font novels about how your teachers are aliens.

But you chose a different path. You may have found the books in your aunt’s house, or at the library when you wandered around after school when everybody else was playing junior basketball. Chances are your parents didn’t give them to you, but you found them anyway. And when you did, it opened up a whole new world of adventure, love and bliss... And melancholy walks through the shaded woods.

Oh, “Anne of Green Gables.” How you loved her red hair, and fussy way of describing things. How you wished you lived in a garret, and had foster parents like Marilla and Matthew. How you yearned (okay, lusted) for Gilbert Blythe, who started off coarse and mean, but turned into a handsome, bushy-haired gentleman. Did you believe in corporal punishment, you wondered? Would you have given up the Avery prize?

You may have even continued reading the series, devouring “Anne of Avonlea” and “Anne of Windy Poplars.” You may have gotten the book on tape, and forced your parents to listen to it in the car over and over. You may have even watched the movie, or the miniseries!

Whatever you did, you did it with wistful glee, just the way Anne would have. Except she didn’t grow up to be a giant man-swallowing ass vacuum, and you did.

You Know It's A Busy Week When We Resort To "Offensive Jokes From A Co-Worker" And It's Only Tuesday...

A female Olympic swimmer complained to her coach that she was worried that she was starting to grow hair in weird places.

"Where?" the coach asked.

"Oh," she answered. "Mainly on my balls".

We Awoke This Morning Hungover And Vaguely Insulted, Without Knowing Why.

Last night we went to Hiro with two of our friends from Paris. As they had to endure all of our comments about Parisian gays last time we visited them (“Why doesn’t anyone have muscle tone?” “Everyone has smoker’s teeth.” “Sneering doesn’t make you clever, it makes me hate you!”), they loosed it right back on us. Sometimes it’s amazing to see things from an outsider’s perspective. It’s like having sex in front of a mirror – interesting at first, but ultimately unflattering:

On Hiro: “Why is it so foggy in here?” “Why is this part of the room only full of short Chinese?” “Your friends are pretty, but not really the other people.”
On Next, the gay magazine, which had a map of gay bars that they followed one night, to 15 different bars: “We think this map is broken. We went to Hangar bar and we were terrified.”
On Gym bar: “What is there to do there?” [Ed. Note: Amen.]
On Amanda Lepore: “We like the way your mother did her hair today.”
On Bank, at Element: “Upstairs it is house music that nobody recognizes. Downstairs they play a wide variety of music styles, from Abba to Madonna. There was open bar, so we each had eleven vodka Red Bulls. We did not go to bed and took a bus to Six Flags in the morning.”
On the closing of the Roxy: “It’s very sad. It was the best place.” [Ed. Note: muh?]
On Barracuda: “Maybe we go outside to smoke a cigarette. And don’t come back inside.”
On Fagat: “You touch people too much.”
On New York gays: “Everyone here uses steroids.”

We met them today for lunch and they asked us for “American food.” We didn’t know what that was so we took them to Dallas BBQ. They were wearing sleeveless shirts. People stared.

We Know This Post Is A Bit Impenetrable, But Don’t Go Too Quickly And Just Try To Ease Into It. You Know, The Way You Do With A Virgin Ass.

It’s nice that Gawker still knows how to make us laugh out loud, every one in a while.

Duke Du Stade. Now They’re Totally Going To Beat Penn In the U.S. News Rankings!

Oh man. First they lead the pack in compiling the first list of the deceased at Virginia Tech, and now this? Is there anything the Facebook can’t do?





(Please note the guy in the background of the picture with the Asian dude. Is that the coach?)

Related: Can Anyone From A State South Of Connecticut Define The Word "Digger"? Hint: It Has Nothing To Do With A "Doody Bubble."

We have never been more wicked proud to be New Englanders.

New Hampshire Governor John Lynch said he would sign legislation allowing civil unions for gay couples when it comes to his desk next week. That makes NH the fourth state in the country to adopt civil unions, after Vermont, New Jersey (not New England, but also has poor white people and foliage) and Connecticut. Massachusetts, of course, is the only state to allow marriage between same-sex couples. In fifty years, when we look back on this time, those tiny states wedged up in the receding hairline of the country will be able to say that they led the way in civil rights at a time when doing so was unpopular nationally.

It almost mitigates the humiliating fact that we are the only people in the nation who think that the American classic “Paul Revere” begins “Listen, my children, and you shall hear…,” when it clearly starts out with “Now here's a little story - I've got to tell…”

Related: Do You Stick That In Poop?

Don’t have much time to post today, but we couldn’t resist passing on an anecdote from a close friend of ours, who came to us this morning complaining that he needs to find a gay dermatologist. We wondered why.

Apparently our friend is having a skin problem, and his current, non-gay dermatologist was checking him all over. When he got to his ass, the doctor paused for a moment, and asked:

“Do you have sex back here?”

Oh, MAN.

WHY YOU ARE GAY: Super Mario Bros

When we were young, video games tended to divide people. There were the types that liked the sports games, like “Jordan vs Bird.” There were the types who liked the fantasy games, like “The Legend of Zelda” (we particularly enjoyed the fairies). There were even they freaks who liked “Marble Madness.” But everybody liked “Super Mario Bros.”

It was the great equalizer. No matter how good or bad you were in school, at sports, or even at making friends, you could show off on the Nintendo, and you always had something to talk about. Admit it, sometimes when you are walking down the street today, the tunes pop into your head (particularly the one from the underground levels where everything was blue).

Then came “Super Marios Bros II.” Long considered the runt of the trilogy, the second game brought in the new characters Toad and Princess Toadstool. This is where the trouble began. All your friends wanted to play Mario (he had all the skills!), Luigi (he could jump so high!), and Toad (he was funny-looking). But you. Oh, you. You always picked Princess Toadstool. She was agile, she had a cute pink dress, and she could levitate! As she drifted in the air, and her gown flowed around her, you got a little thrill. You’d even make her levitate when it wasn’t necessary (frankly, it was never necessary and she was definitely the most useless character).

You see, “Super Mario Bros” betrayed you. You finally had a game where you were as good as your brothers, your friends and the kids in the after school programs. You blended in, at last! And then, like a cockroach crawling into Kate Beckinsale’s ear, it found your weakness and brought you down. How did it know that all you wanted was to glide through the air with your tiara, bathed in flowing silk chiffon, and throw turnips at monsters?

It doesn’t matter. It was too late anyway. You were gay, and everybody in your friend’s basement knew it.

Well, This Isn't That Gay. Except That When We Buy Our Daughter From The Swedish Baby Market...

...she's totally going to wear that outfit.



And drink beer.

Breaking: An Exclusive Interview With A Law Student. A GAY Law Student!!!

As Towleroad recently pointed out, in an interview last week at the Phoenix Pride Festival, ex-idol contestant (or almost contestant, we don't really remember what happened because we were still in college and thus drunk all the time) Frenchie Davis gave a shout-out to G*d and the gays, but we especially liked her shout-out to one gay in particular.

Q: You're performing at the Phoenix Pride Festival. Do you feel a strong connection with the gay community?

A: Oh yes, they are so special to me. I appreciate them so much. I've always had fans in the gay community, even before Idol. I used to sing at the gay clubs in D.C., and the boys would come up onstage and give me tips. They still do! There was a gay Stanford law student who started a Save Frenchie Web site and Save Frenchie T-shirts. All the important men in my life have been gay. Even though I'm not gay, I've always been a member of the gay community.

Well we went and sought out this Gay Stanford Law Student (GSLS), and had the opportunity to interview him via g-chat since we are both slowly dying in the basements of our respective libraries.

FW: OMG. How did it feel to get a shout-out from Frenchie?
GSLS: OMG. Special.

FW: What inspired you to start the Save Frenchie campaign? Did you feel a connection to Frenchie as a gay? Or was it just that you have no problems with porn?
GSLS: As a SLS, I feel particularly attuned to issues of injustice, especially when those issues involve members of minority classes. As a GSLS, that feeling is especially acute in the case of members of the G community. When it came to Frenchie, I felt that she was being unfairly dismissed from the show under false pretenses. She appeared in a lacy teddy on some website years earlier, and it was not search-able. Someone dug it up. Many of us who were AI and Frenchie devotees that season felt certain she was in reality being persecuted because she was the frontrunner in the competition, and that Fox (aka Nigel) did not want her to be the new face of AI. Since, as she points out herself, she is a member of the G community, I felt I needed to act to save one of my own.

FW: Do you still wear your t-shirt out to the gay bars? Does it work? Are there any left for our interested reader(s)?
GSLS: I wear my shirt, but not usually to gay bars. It doesn't fit as well as it used to, for no apparent reason. I am more concerned with fit than content when it comes to gay bar attire. There may be a few left. I must check with my co-founder. (who, I may add, was sadly not included in Frenchie's shout-out, but was nonetheless an indispensable part of the Save Frenchie Shirt effort).

GSLS: (at some point in this interview I would like to be able to point out that I was a Jennifer Hudson fan from day one and have carried the JHUD mantle right alongside her right up until the moment she mounted the stage at the Kodak).
FW: (Ok, we will get to that).

FW: Did you happen to catch Frenchie in Rent? How did she sound? Did you jump up on stage and give her "tips" after the show?
GSLS: I did not, but I would have loved to. I doubt I would have given her tips if I had.
However, I did catch Frenchie playing none other than Ms. Effie White in San Jose during the West coast tour of Dreamgirls in 2004. I spoke with her afterwards. She was pleased to see me. She wore a beret. She told me to call her.

FW: Speaking of Ms. Effie White, are there any other former or current idols you feel as passionately about?
GSLS: Funny you should ask. During Season 3, I fell in love with Jennifer Hudson, and when she was untimely ripped from the show, it was the first time in a long time that I found myself crying over reality television. Since then, I have carried her torch, sang the JHUD gospel to all who would listen, and awaited her return. The day I heard she had landed the role of Effie in Dreamgirls, I said, Oh my G*d, she's going to win an Oscar. The fact is, whoever gets to play Effie wins an Oscar. Not to mention that Jennifer was incredible and Oprah and I both found God during her performance. Which is only to say that I have an uncanny ability to spot talent, particularly when they're pre-selected by the AI judges for me to spot.

FW: Anything else you would like to let our readers know, about Frenchie or the gays in general?
GSLS: Although I am not in touch with Frenchie anymore, it was heartwarming to see her mention me in her interview with the Arizona Republic, and heartwarming to see Andy Towle pay both her, and, in effect, me, homage by reprinting it on his blog. I wish Frenchie, Arizona, Andy Towle, and the gays in general all the best in the future.

FW: Well thanks so much GSLS, we wish you the best on finals, and in life.
GSLS: For the record, I would also like to say that I am staunchly AGAINST the adoption of Knut by Angelina Jolie. Bye.

With Friends Like These, Who Needs Marriage?

So a gay marriage bill has been sent on its way to the Connecticut state legislature, despite Governor Jodi Rell's vow that she will veto it (the state already has a civil partnership law). During hearings on the bill, Rep Beth Bye opened up about her own gay lifestyle:

As tears rolled down her cheeks, Bye told members of the committee how her deeply religious father has come to accept and support her gay lifestyle and her partner.

"My father, a devout Catholic, ... has moved on this issue because he loves his daughter.

"He thinks of me as married," said Bye. "The broader world does not see me as married." Her voice shaking, Bye explained how, on her partner’s pension documents, she has been listed as "Other" because she didn’t fit into any of the traditional legal categories.

"I don’t want to be ‘Other,’" insisted Bye, "I want to be married."

This made us think about a couple of gay frenemies of ours who just got engaged. When we heard the news, we were very startled. They both live in New York, where it is not yet legal for gays to get married, or even domestically partnered. At a time when there is a very real battle over whether or not he word "marriage" can mean anything for us, is it appropriate to have wedding ceremonies? Does that not muddy the waters? Shouldn't a young couple wait until they have the legal rights to get married to do so, to show straight people how much we take the word and the institution seriously?

Obviously we recognize the flip side of this. If a couple is loving and committed enough to want to share in the bonds of marriage, why should they bother waiting for bigoted people to give them the O.K.?

Anyway, it doesn't matter in this case. We secretly hate this couple, so we're going to get all of our friends together and buy one another all of the useful gifts on their registry, so when it comes time for the wedding, all that's going to be left for the couple will be window treatments and that antique hobby horse they never thought anyone would actually buy.

What, you didn't see it coming? With gay weddings, it was inevitable: gay wedding sabotage!

We Know You're All Very Busy Talking About "Lost," But Can You At Least Try Reading On The Toilet? Something Other Than In Style?

We know that we are exactly twenty years late on this one, but on the off chance that any of you have not yet read “And The Band Played On,” we wanted to take the opportunity to recommend it. We’re finishing it up right now. It’s the authoritative history on the beginning years of the AIDS epidemic – up until 1985. It’s told as a narrative timeline, with dozens of characters, set against the growing national drama.

We are not huge readers of non-fiction (we couldn’t get through “Fast Food Nation” and don't even get us started on "Tuesdays With Morrie") but “And The Band Played On” has sailed into our top ten favorite books of all time, a list that includes “Breakfast of Champtions” (RIP Kurt Vonnegut), “The Beautiful and the Damned,” “Middlemarch,” and “Catch-22.” Again, we know it’s a very old book, and most dutiful gays have probably already read it. But if you haven’t, check it out.

The other night we were so engrossed in reading it, that we stopped to lean against a pillar in the subway. Had our eyes not been so glued to the page, we would have probably noticed the “Wet Paint” sign, and probably could have prevented the left sleeve of our grey coat from turning permanently yellow.

Also, it might have helped if we weren’t completely wasted at the time. We had to re-read that entire chapter the next day, anyway.

WHY YOU ARE GAY: American Gladiators

How could you possibly have been expected to stay heterosexual in the presence of a show that featured hot musclemen in spandex, running around and beating each other with pillow sticks?

You knew you loved “American Gladiators,” but you didn’t know why. Was it the obstacle courses? The feats of strength? The tennis ball gun?

No. It was the gayness.

The male gladiators were basically sexy superheroes come to life, with uniforms that were campier than Captain Marvel. They had names like Nitro and Gemini and Zap. The women were so testosterized that they were also basically men. And yet, it was perfectly acceptable for you to ask to watch “Gladiators” at a friend’s house, or with your big brother, because everybody thought it was cool! (God, what the fuck did they put in the water in the 80s?)

You sat and you watched, commenting on how tough everybody was, waiting in eager anticipation for the part where the scantily clad men battle each other in giant cage balls. It was the most titillating thing you could look at since you learned that National Geographic sometimes published photos of penises in foreign lands. You could even get away with saying you wanted to BE an American Gladiator when you grew up.

And as you said it, you probably joyfully imagined your life of chest waxing, unitards, and staring at the tight asses of other men as you chased them up a rock climbing wall. And in that moment, it may have occurred to you in that weird, unvoiced region in the back of your head, that yeah – you’re probably going to turn out queer.

You Mean Being Gay At College Isn't All A Cappella And Dubra?

There are two long articles out today that we think are very interesting about gay life at college. The first is a story about America's only openly gay lacrosse coach, and the second is about the difficulty in forming gay groups at traditionally all-black colleges. They're both well worth reading, especially if you're one of those gays that went to a place like Yale, Oberlin, Brown, or, say, American University (Gay U.), where LGBT students and faculty play very powerful roles. It's important to be reminded what hurdles gay students still face.

Of course, our college experience was as gay as a fucking picnic. We remember one time working out in the gym with our friend Derrick, we ran into an old gray-haired biology professor of ours. Derrick and I were stretching. It's always weird to see your distinguished faculty in gym clothes - it's like when Bill Clinton used to try to go jogging with the press, and he looked like a middle aged housewife at Curves.

The professor came up to us and said hello, and began stretching also. After a moment, he turned to us, looked us up and down, and said, "You know, some people go to the gym to work out, not just to check out the boys on the rugby team."

We were flabbergasted, especially since that was exactly what we had been doing. As he walked away chuckling, he turned and said, "To be fair, they are very cute."

If Anyone Knows Where They Have The "Sound Of Music Singalongs," Can You Please Tell Us? Not That We Want To Know, Or Anything. We're Just Curious.

A funny thing just happened to Fagats over the weekend. We noticed that we suddenly had hundreds more visitors every day, and after a little investigation, saw that if you Google Image "naked girls Playboy sexy," the sixth site that comes up is the FAGAT Guide. Who'da thunk? Anyway, we tried to fix the problem, but for anyone who still wanders over here looking for naked sexy Playboy girls, we are so, so sorry.

If there was something in the world that is the opposite off nsPg's, it would probably be a bar in the West Village called Marie's Crisis.

So it is appropriately random, then, that we spent Saturday night there. For those of you that don't know, Marie's Crisis is this piano bar across 7th Avenue from The Duplex which where gays of varying degrees of tragedy gather to sing Broadway standards. It's also named after a 1776 political pamphlet by Thomas Paine, who died there (No joke). We kind of love it there. But you have to be careful - because the line between observational amusement and fervent belting is easily crossed by as few as three cocktails.

What we don't like about Marie's, though, is that some of the elder gays that hang out there are of the old cruising school, where they just sit there and stare at you hungrily for an hour, such that you eventually become uncomfortable looking at an entire half of the bar, for fear of making eye contact. These gays are always twice your age, and really, should know better (Mr. Combover-and-Eyepatch, we're talking to you here). Luckily this problem can be ignored by having those three cocktails, finding yourself at the piano arm-in-arm with perfect strangers, shrieking out the words to "Our Time" from "Merrily We Roll Along."

Did you know that's a musical that starts at the end and ends at the beginning? Maybe that's what we should have done with this post - ended it at the beginning.

At This Point, In The Democratic Primary, Will A Pro-Gay Stance Actually Hurt Any Candidate? Don't They Want Our Ill-Gotten, Poop-Stained Money?

We like the simplicity with which presidential long-shot Chris Dodd addressed the civil union question on a New Hampshire radio show this week:

Democratic presidential hopeful Chris Dodd told high school students Wednesday that people debating gay marriage should ask themselves just one question: What would you do if your child were gay? Dodd said anyone who would deny a gay child the right to be happy isn’t being honest.

"We ought to be able to have these loving relationships," the Connecticut senator said.

Dodd, the father of 2-year-old and 5-year-old girls, said his daughters could grow up to be lesbians and that he hopes they would have the opportunity to enjoy marriage-like rights.

"They may grow up as a different sexual orientation than their parents," he said. "How would I want my child to be treated if they were of a different sexual orientation?"

Dodd probably doesn't have the popularity, or money, for a real shot. But we hope that the more candidates come out with reasonable rhetoric like this (even Rudy said it allowing domestic partnerships was the "American" thing to do), the more cruel and unreasonable anti-gay stances like Mitt Romney's might seem.

It's funny, when you think about it, that a WASPy old white dude would unequivocally support a minority that faces prejudice and disadvantage - when Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, who as a woman and a black man have probably faced disadvantage and unfairness at every turn in their political careers, aren't even sure homosexuality is moral.

Come on, people. If we've learned anything from "American Idol," it's that the country is ready to vote to include fags. Get with the program!

Fishwatch Inches Closer To Death’s Doorstep, Though Not Quite As Close As Bigmouth, Who Just Left Dog Poop In A Burning Paper Bag There.

Last night marked the celebration of Fishwatch’s 25th year in existence. That’s right, that bitch is younger than Beyonce. His party was fun and fierce, as is to be expected, and he even brought along his delightful mancandy, Jeff (a Fagats reader!). Everyone went over to Beige afterward and generally behaved poorly. Our credit card is still behind the bar there, as a matter of fact. Damn you, cute bartender with the eyes a little too close together!

It was a special evening, because lately Fishwatch has been pretty devoted to his studies and we rarely see him (seriously, the last time we saw him was at CHURCH. And we don’t even mean the gym!). Long gone are the days when we could just yell out of our bedroom door that we were going out, and five minutes later meet him in the living room to do vodka shots and eyebrow checks. And we miss those days dreadfully. We long for his endless supply of bicep-flattering shirts, for having him there to supply the witty banter when we hit on boys together, and for the special “uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh” noise that we perfected together to describe our hangovers.

So, Fishwatch, during this, your 25th year of life on earth, and (eventually) your third year of law school, we pledge to force you to come out more. No more of this “I commute from the Upper East Side” bullshit. Giuliani gave his support of domestic partnerships in honor of your birthday, and thusly we will give you our support of your alcohol habit. It’s what gay best friends are for.

WHY YOU ARE GAY: "Star Search"

Before there was “American Idol,” “America’s Got Talent,” “So You Think You Can Dance” – heck, before there was even “America’s Funniest Home Videos” – there was “Star Search.” Do you remember it? We used to watch it relentlessly as a child. If you were lucky, you might have caught Christina Aguilera before she was on “The Mickey Mouse Club,” or Alanis Morisette before “You Can’t Do That On Television” made her (and slime) a star. You may have even seen Britney Spears before she forgot how to sing!

“Star Search” set off a lot of conflicting emotions for us. We desperately wanted to be on the show. What could be more exhilarating than pulling on some jazz pants and belting out a soulful classic like “If You Don’t Know Me By Now”? But the problem was, we had no talent. We still don’t, frankly. We couldn’t sing, we couldn’t play an instrument, and we certainly weren’t part of any plucky four-person youth dance teams.

If you were un-gifted like us, you had to make yourself content with watching the show, and dreaming of holding that microphone. You’d practice numbers in the mirror in your room (only mouthing them, of course. You didn’t want anyone to hear, and plus, weren’t the pained facial expressions the most important part anyway?). You’d imagine what outfits you’d wear on stage. You’d gripe about the lame kids who won (that fag that beat Britney was a joke. WHERE YOU AT NOW, BITCH?).

It was a very sad thing being an effeminate child without musical performance talent. Those of us who were lacking had no way of channeling all of these urges. You never once got to sing a solo in a school musical, let alone enter a nationally syndicated talent show. You never got to wave your hand in the air as you hit the high note, as if to say, “Alas! I’m about to be crushed by the awesomeness of my own voice!” (but oh, how you practiced that move).

Still, somehow, you managed to grow up into a big fag. You were totally gypped.

Butt. Something We Could Really Get Into.

In a sort of reverse-Details maneuver, Amsterdam-based gay magazine Butt is gaining popularity with straight men, according to Nerve.

Suddenly it seemed to be everywhere, and those talking about it were the same straight men who are always nursing obsessions with new bands and obscure Japanese sneaker designers. Butt, the gayest magazine in existence, is achieving name-recognition that signals more than simple crossover appeal — it is sincerely resonating with straight men. Why? Jop Van Bennekom describes Butt as "a cultural magazine that also involves sex. We show guys with hardons, but we also show a lot of the person behind the hardon. In a way, it's a bit of a limp-dick magazine."

It's a phenomenon that may prove that gay magazines CAN have crossover appeal (would a straight man ever wade through all the cheap twinky bottom jokes in "Genre" or "Instinct"? Or all the stories about Martina Navratilova in "The Advocate?"), even if they are graphic - so long as they have good writing and interesting features on things other than just sex.

It should make sense. After all, we read that bunny magazine now and again, and if we can get past all those ladies making that nasty "I-just-burped-and-am-exhaling-hard-so-it-blows-away" face, then surely straight guys can get past a little friendly frottage here and there.

The Band That Sings This Song Is Called "TISM," Which Stands For "This Is Serious, Mum."

This weekend, we went to a movie with a friend, and he brought a male model we’ve met a few times out and about. We gave him a kiss hello, and said “It’s so nice to see you again!” exactly at the same moment he said, “It’s so nice to meet you!”

The movie was “Factory Girl.” It was, as our friend put it, a cautionary tale. But we’re not really sure if there are that many people in danger of growing up as socialites in Boston, moving to New York, befriending Andy Warhol, becoming his muse, getting superfamous, dating Bob Dylan, getting addicted to drugs, and then dying in Santa Barbara these days. Anyway, at the end of the movie, after a nice little chat, the three of us walked home in different directions. We gave the model a big hug goodbye, and said, “It was very nice to hang out again.” At the exact same moment, he repeated, “It was very nice to meet you.”

We’re not exactly sure how to express the way those moments make us feel. But we imagine that the bunny in the above video probably understands.

It's Official. The Paper Of Record Is The New Details.

Boy, lately the New York Times has really been rocking out with its cock out.

We loved the story this weekend about 7th grader Zach O’Connor coming out to his parents. It was slightly stereotyped, but adorable nonetheless, particularly this part:

That night, when his mother got home from work, she stuck her head in his room to say hi. “I said, ‘Ma, I need to talk to you about something, I’m gay.’ She said, ‘O.K., anything else?’ ‘No, but I just told you I’m gay.’ ‘O.K., that’s fine, we still love you.’ I said, ‘That’s it?’ I was preparing for this really dramatic moment.”
Ms. O’Connor recalls, “He said, ‘Mom, aren’t you going to freak out?’ I said: ‘It’s up to you to decide who to love. I have your father, and you have to figure out what’s best for you.’ He said, ‘Don’t tell Dad.’ ”
“Of course I told him,” Ms. O’Connor says.

And this bit, too:

Zach says classmates tossed pencils at him and constantly mocked him. “One kid followed me class to class calling me ‘faggot,’ ” he says. “After a month I turned and punched him in the face. He got quiet and walked away. I said, ‘You got beat up by a faggot.’ ”

We had the same feeling reading this article that we had while we read Augusten Burrough’s essay in this month’s Details (it was plain-written piece on how dumb it is for Ted Haggard to claim he is no longer gay). We were glad to see gay issues explained simply and positively, but we were wondering for how much longer “gay stuff” will be news simply because it is “gay stuff.” Most of these articles are about how gayness has become normal. If it’s normal, then, why is it news?

Anyway, we liked the story either way. Though we came out young, we didn’t come out as young as Zach, and though our parents were great, they weren’t as quick to understand as his parents. They clearly think this whole thing is hilarious, and they are right:

Now, as a 17-year-old 11th grader, Zach has passed through phases that many gay men of previous generations didn’t get to until their 20s, 30s, even 40s. “Eighth grade was kind of his militant time,” Mr. O’Connor says. “Everything was a rainbow.”

We REALLY REALLY hope that when we go to the baby store, we get a fag too.