Massholes Do The Right Thing. Pretty Much.

We're at a little bit of a loss as to how to contemplate this story. The Massachusetts legislature dodged the question of whether to put gay marriage on the ballot yesterday, delaying to the point where it probably won't be able to get onto the 2008 ballots. Gay activists greeted this decision with cheers and tears of joy, and we completely understand that emotion. Committed gay couples will continue to be married if they so choose, and that's what we want in the end.

But by sidestepping the issue, the Legislature has left room for arch-conservatives like exiting Governor Mitt Romney to cloak their homophobia in constitutional rhetoric. "Today, by effectively avoiding the constitutionally required vote on same-sex marriage, 109 legislators disgraced their oath of office," Romney said. Read: "I don't like gay people and I never have, but now I have the perfect excuse to complain about gay marriage without being politically incorrect."

Still, we're not above a little sleight-of-hand when it comes to getting what we want in the end, and here's why: As this article eloquently points out, the more time that gay marriage is legal, the more good examples will exist of why it should be. Gay marriage is not like abortion, which will be argued over forever because of the way it was legalized in Roe v. Wade. As positive as our abortion policies may be, you'll never see a physical example of why abortion SHOULD be legal - by nature it's regulation that hinges on what is not there. But as time goes by in Massachusetts, we will have more and more evidence that it isn't harmful, and that it in fact helps people. Then, when the time comes that it does go on the ballot (and it will, despite how many Massachusetts gay activists were rejoicing yesterday), more people will have gay families living next door, or in play group, or on the PTA. There's no way, then, that they will get enough votes to make a change. Perhaps then, too, the examples created in Massachusetts will help neighboring states realize that gay marriage isn't so apocalyptic after all.

Regardless, conservative lawmakers in Massachusetts and around the country received rejections this week they won't soon forget. To them we say, hey, it could be worse. You could be Kevin Federline.

Nothing Like An Outed RNC Chair To Cause A Walk Down Memory Lane

Well. We don’t know what to think about Ken Mehlman. In the end, we sort of decided that he wasn’t gay, after he told us so. But here comes Bill Maher, ready to tell us we were all wrong. Isn’t it usually the straight guys who assume everyone is straight, and the gays who assume the opposite? Funny. (Our secret suspicion is that Maher knows Mehlman won't sue him for libel, so he's safe even if the guy is straight)

But anyway, as a celebration of whether or not Kenny is about to be outed, we thought we’d take a walk down memory lane, and recall our favorite moments of sexual confusion:

1) One of the best had to be during Senior year in college, on Halloween, when we unexpectedly found ourselves in the bed of a boy who had been straight throughout college (he had even just dumped a girlfriend the day before, and would reunite with her the day after). We were so surprised by the situation that we didn’t realize how drunk we were, and halfway through the evening’s activities, we left his room, claiming to have to go to the bathroom. Instead, though, we walked home, without shoes, socks, jacket, wallet or shirt. When we arrived, we barfed for hours.

2) Very high up on the list would also have to be, despite his protestations that he wasn’t gay, the time we kissed Fishwatch in a basement squash court. While we got in trouble for it at the time, it was one of the best things we ever did.

3) Then there’s the time when, as a camp counselor we got drunk (are we noticing a pattern here?) while leading a hiking trip of ten nine-year-olds on the Appalachian trail. While sleeping in a lean-to with the campers and some random thru-hikers, we were very surprised when the straight, Scottish head counselor deemed it necessary to perform a hypothermia drill with us in our sleeping bag.

4) And who could forget the time when Kevin Spacey told an ex of ours, confusing his reticence to hook up for actual heterosexuality, that “You don’t have to be a waterskier to waterski”?

5) And the best one would have to be the time that we, before thousands of television viewers would ask the same question, wondered whether this guy was gay. He was the first boy we hit on at college, and it went so poorly that soon after we hooked up with his female best friend as penance.

This could go on for pages. Anyone else have stories to share?

Breaking: Men Who Get Paid To Be Photographed With No Clothes On Are Usually Good Looking And Date Celebrities...

Thursday Styles has profiled Jamie Dornan today, Calvin Klein hottie and Kiera Knightly ex, and what we learn is:

“He’s like the male Kate Moss...His proportions are a little off. He has a slight build. He’s on the small side for male models. But his torso is long, and so he looks taller, and he brings a relaxed quality to modeling. He knows what he’s there for, but unlike a lot of people he’s not trying to be a male model. He is not modeling.”

That's so meta.

Do you think by "unlike a lot of people" they are referring to the NYC Gays who think they are male models because they have nice hair, a David Barton membership, and layer well? If so, y'all should take some advice and stop trying so hard. For example:



and,


See? Just being completely normal.

If The Day After Election Day Was A Holiday, We Feel Like The Traditional Drink Should Be Champagne.

We've been checking the web all day to monitor what's been happening in election, but our favorite moment so far was when we showed up at our tutor's house for Spanish class. Turns out Montana had elected a Democrat to the senate while we were in the subway, and our tutor greeted us at the door saying "The Democrats are going to win the Senate! The Democrats are going to win the Senate!" He was born and raised in Madrid. It's days like these, when Spanish people you see say "Congratulations" on the street that you remember people do believe in America, just not President Bush.

While we were encouraged by the Democratic success today, we were sad to see gay marriage struck down in so many states. But an encouraging thing, we thought, was that Arizona was the first state to refuse to enact a ban. Arizona Together, a very dedicated and well-funded pro-equal rights group, is to thank for that. They directed a great campaign focused on putting a face on the issue. Their ads all begin with sentences like "Meet Bob. If you vote for this amendment, this is what he will lose." They even encouraged gay people to have explanation parties, where they would invite friends and neighbors to ask questions about being gay. They reasoned if every gay person could convince two more people to vote against the ban, the ban would fail. And it did.

We're running out of time at this internet cafe in rainy Madrid, but for everyone who went out to vote yesterday, thanks. We're not the only ones over here who noticed.

Dems Win House, Pages Can Go Back to D.C. Feeling Safe and Secure...Except That The Terrorists Have Won.

The Election of 2006 Official Recap:

1. So the Dems have taken the House and maybe the Senate if Jim W can edge out the man who calls our people monkeys in Virginny. Also Rummy is dunzo. Nice job overall team. Nancy P managed to unplug herself from the wall socket to make an incomprehensible speech last night, but she could have been calling all minorities monkeys, we still would have been thrilled.

2. We also must confess that we are happy about the New York State Comptroller's race in which Alan H kept his position despite maybe not acting too Comptroller-ish by having state drivers drive around his wife. Our daddy took out the man's prostate a few years back, and obvi we got an internship out of it, so you can tell that we have strong convictions when it comes to State politics.

3. Arizona has (almost) rejected a same-sex marriage ban, and the margins on the 7 other states (though they passed) were smaller than expected. Though the first state of 28 that have voted on similar measures since 1998 to reject the ban, it is Arizona people, so give thanks. Maybe they realized straight people were doing enough damage to marriage as it is.

4. Deval P and Eliot S win their respective guvnor-ships, and both support marriage equality. If Eliot gets his way, we won't have to take the PATH train anymore to get whatever they're going to call it over there in Hoboken.

5. Most importantly, however, did Anderson stop eating? He looked really skinny last night. Maybe he has been hitting Equinox too often. (Call us Anderson!) Also, how he keeps a straight face when talking to Candy C is beyond us all. Ha ha. We just used "Anderson" and "straight" in the same sentence. (CALL US ANDERSON!)

We Do Have Gay Friends Here From America, France, Scotland and Uruguay. Just Not Spain. We’re Like The United Colors Of Fagetton.

Since we’ve come to Spain we’ve made a big effort to make Spanish friends. This has been slightly difficult, as since we entered prep school at the age of 14, we have never had to make a single new friend. It was all the same people from there to the Ivy League to New York. So we signed up on a website to start doing one-on-one language exchanges with Spaniards who wanted to practice their English. We in turn could practice our Spanish, and in the end, perhaps make new friends. And since we wanted to make gay pals who could show us all the fun Madrid places to go out, we put on our listing that we were gay, 25 and American.

Big mistake. We were immediately bombarded by emails from Spaniards of all ages. “How exciting,” we thought. “So many people want to practice their English and make new friends!” What we should have realized is that all foreign people know Americans are brain-dead sex maniacs. So when we said we wanted to practice our Spanish, they assumed that we wouldn’t be able to speak Spanish at all, and since we would have nothing to talk about, we’d be forced to go back to their parents’ place and wrap our ankles around their bedposts. (They all live with their parents, fyi.)

We’ve gone on exchange dates with six men so far. One of them lured us back to his place to have dinner and tried to dry hump us in the kitchen. One tried to get us drunk at lunch and take us back to his mom’s house for an afternoon quickie. And one, who was only 20 years old, took us salsa dancing and then proceeded to send us erotic text messages (in Spanish text-abbreviated slang) every day for a week.

This would be great if any of the guys were hot. But an inherent problem in the situation is that the type of guys who want to spend their free time practicing a foreign language with a stranger aren’t the type of guys who have hordes of potential boyfriends lined up. Present company excluded, of course.

So our next stop was to join, with a lesbian friend of ours (we have a LESBIAN FRIEND, PEOPLE), an expat gay social group. Of course, the group was made up entirely of elderly English and American gentlemen, waiting to prey on lonely younger boys. So that wasn’t working either.

So finally, we decided to try the oldest trick in the book. We got whored up, went to the gayest bar we could find, with the biggest cups, the most guys and the cheapest alcohol, and waited for people to talk to us. And they did. And what did we learn?

Spanish people are brain-dead sex maniacs, too.

If Only There Were Another Gay Star Who Is A Heartthrob On A Primetime Drama Who Could Come Out...

We know we’re a little late on this, but news travels slowly across the Atlantic (gay news especially, as it prefers to doggy paddle), and Doogie Howser isn’t that culturally important here to begin with (who knew?). But the recent coming out of Neil Patrick Harris provides a nice counterpoint to the crystal-meth-with-an-aging-hooker Ted Haggard mess.

Harris was one of New York’s gay characters that we loved to see around. Unlike a Graham Norton or Alan Cumming, who would show splashily up to any event with whatever young thing they were fucking at the time (or looking for the next one), Harris just went out occasionally with his friends. Or with his very cute, appropriately-aged boyfriend. Fishwatch and Bigmouth saw them together at a Christina Aguilera concert (though Fishwatch barely remembers because he met Tim Gunn at that party and since then life has all seemed a little black and white). We also remember sitting behind him and the boyfriend at Broadway Bares and watch them giggle at all the male strippers, along with the rest of us.

After we saw him at Broadway Bares, we teased him a little for being closeted. But it appears he never really did deny being gay, or at least not recently.

Obviously, a lot more stories like Haggard’s are going to make a lot bigger headlines than ones about slightly obscure sitcom stars (even if “How I Met Your Mother” is a genius show). But every one that there is to counterbalance gross, messy confusing ones like Haggard’s or Mark Foley’s is a step in the right direction. Because at the end of the day, Americans spend more time watching evening television, or listening to pop music, than they do worrying about the personal lives of politicians and religious leaders.

Over here in Spain, there are a lot of reasons why gay marriage has reached a 70% approval rating. But one of the factors that all of the activists we’ve interviewed have mentioned was the presence of gay characters on television. Popular soaps included gay storylines, and successful game show hosts came out of the closet. This made being gay seem a lot more normal and inoffensive for TV viewers.

We can only hope the US begins to follow in this tradition more (“Will and Grace’s” writers are crafting a new gay sitcom, we hear…). And not just for the cause of gay rights. Check out the host of the American version of “Deal or No Deal:”



Now check out Jesus Vasquez, the host of the Spanish version. He’s openly gay, and married:



Don’t try to think about it too much. It hurts.

We're Surprised This Isn't In the Thursday Styles Section...

The NYTimes DealBook has picked up on the gays on Wall Street thing, and found the perfect way to get the gays to read the post: posting a pic of a mysterious hottie. Apparently, he's the Credit Suisse "global equity derivatives and European equities head." Huh-huh. Head.

However, if we ran DealBook, we would have chosen other pictures to really emphasize the gay-ness. Maybe this one. Perhaps this is why we don't run DealBook. Also we have trouble with numbers, despite being of South Asian origin.

First one to date him wins a "Wall St. is the new Gay St." t-shirt. And free trips to Europe.

It Is Called Wall Street Because There Was Once A Big Wall There. That's Also How Gay Street Got Its Name...

We remember once a year or two ago when we were out with a friend who was meeting up with some of her college peeps downtown. They were all i-banker types, and among them was a gay we knew. We'd seen him out and about at the usual watering holes - duves, poops, hiro, boys room, star-star, beige - you name it, he was there, drunk as a skank in his sleeveless tees, sticking his tongue in every gay man's mouth south of 21st street. We noticed he was a little uneasy in the group, but thought maybe he just fell off the speaker he was dancing on the night before. But when we were leaving, we leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and boyfriend turned away! SNAP! He dissed us! No mwah mwah's allowed when you were out with your fellow i-bankers apparently.

Our friend later told us that he wasn't really out to his co-workers. "I-banks are really homophobic," she said, "they talk about sports and say 'that's so gay.'" We were curious as to how people can stay in the closet when they show up to work day after day with their hands smelling like go-go boy crotch, but then again, we don't work in finance.

So we are glad to hear that Wall Street is starting to reach out to the gays, making it a better, more open place to work. Because we all know what a hostile working environment can lead you to do.

Though our first job wasn't in finance, it was a block from Wall Street, so we too were worried about how to come out to our co-workers, and how they might react. This anxiety was cured on the first day, when in the 10am staff meeting, a cockroach fell from the ceiling onto the conference table, and we let out a high pitched scream and ran to the other end of the room, yes, still screaming. The senior vice president in the department grabbed the cockroach with his hand and threw him out the window, but the touching of the bug with the hand caused us to scream even more. But then we realized that we no longer had to make up a boyfriend to say, "we and our boyfriend went away for the weekend" to out ourselves. From the beginning, no one ever talked to us about sports. Goldman and Merrill types, take note.

I Mean, We Can't Get Married, We Can't Adopt, And Now We Can't Work Because One Of Us Is In A Faggy Musical And The Other Is Celebrating Halloween

Fishwatch and Bigmouth are having a tough week. So for today, we'll defer to the (somewhat) witty (more crazy, really) writing of a popular Craigslist poster.

A Word On Gay Hostels.

So for the first time in our life, we have elected to stay at a queer hospitality establishment. We have long boycotted such places, mostly because of the banner ads on gay blogs that talk about “Clothing Optional” resorts in Key West. To us, “Clothing Optional” means “You are going to have geriatric pubes all over your continental breakfast.”

But the last hostel we stayed in here in Spain was terrifying, so we thought we’d take a chance when we came here to Barcelona. After all, we knew the gays would at least run a safe, clean place with plenty of light and furniture that is designed to lean back.

And boy did we hit a home run. Not only is this place charming, but the hosts are lovely, and there is always a hot Greek guy running around in his Aussie Bums. There are people here from France, Spain, Portugal and even some places we can’t identify, but whose language seems to involve a lot of hocking loogies. (Armenia, perhaps?)

We sort of hilariously imagined when we came here that it would be like a prep school dorm, but better, with nubile young boys popping in at all hours of the night to get a little slap and tickle, and the sounds of enthusiastic buggering echoing down the quaint old mid-century hallways. The kind of place where innocent young American travelers wind up speared in both ends, rotating slowly between two well-hung foreigners, like a suckling pig over an open flame.

Ridiculous, we know. But then, we didn’t expect to be right about the comeback of denim shorts, either. Guess we’re two for two.

When Our Mom Helped Us Move She Found Our Wigs From Past Halloweens and Immediately Started to Cry...

Some people have told us we were way too serious on Wednesday, so we will go back to being our superficial selves, posting only about self-deprication and husband hunting, and leaving the serious "issue" posts to Bigmouth. Any by "issues" we mean both the struggle for full equality and deformed genetalia.

At this point, however, we have nothing to say, except to wish you all a very fun pre-Halloween weekend. It seems like Saturday night is the big night of choice for dressing as slut-ily as possible and calling it a costume. We haven't been to the gym since June, so can't really recreate the Adam, Eve & Steve or Michael Phelps costumes of past years, both of which involved painful waxing experiences and a subsequent rash. We will, however, be entering the following costume contest on bloggingprojectrunway, but won't tell you what our idea is since you f*ckers will probably steal it and thus our year's supply of tresemme hair products. OK fine, we will give you a hint: she was a "celebrity" judge one episode this season. And those quotes might as well have given it away.

We are a little worried that no one outside our world is going to know who we are, and that we will spend most of the night explaining ourselves to the straight people LL is making us hang out with tomorrow night. We can't even blame straight people though, since at a firm's gay recruiting drinks last night, we shared our idea and even they were clueless. Never a good sign.

Two Posts! Either Today Is A V. Special Day Or We Are Just Bored To Tears In the Libes...

The State Supreme Court in New Jersey decided its gay marriage case today, saying that though there is not a fundamental right of same-sex couples to marry in NJ, a denial of equal benefits to same sex couples would violate the state's equal protection clause. What this status is called, however, is left to the legislature.

First, we will say that a gain in civil rights is a gain in civil rights, so we applaud the New Jersey Court for doing something, unlike our own Court of Appeals. We also think it is great that the 4-3 decision was not 4 in favor of equality and 3 for no equality, rather 4 for full benefits for gay couples, and 3 for full benefits along with the title of marriage, acknowledging that the gays do in fact have that fundamental right to the institution.

But like the concurrence/dissent, we don't really understand what the big deal about the letting the gays use the term "marriage" is. Actually, we don’t really know why the state is involved in the institution of marriage at all. But being that there is a "long history and tradition" of marriage and recognition of it by the state, we are a little disappointed that the majority didn't go so far as to say that we gays DO have a fundamental right to it, or that the equal protection clause of the state constitution requires access to the term “marriage” as well.

What we have a fundamental right to based on liberty is really a social or judicial construction that evolves over time, usually based on how broadly or narrowly you ask the question: in 1987, the U.S. Supreme Court found that there was no fundamental right to “homosexual sodomy” in the U.S. Constitution, but in 2003, the Court said that there was a fundamental right to privacy in the bedroom. Here, the majority asks is there a fundamental right for same-sex couples to marry based on the NJ Constitution (No), while the concurrence/dissent asks if there is a fundamental right or liberty interest in state-sanctioned marriage, which everyone agrees on, and if there are individuals being denied access to that liberty interest (Yes). We like the former question(s) better, but not the current answer.

While full benefits are great, as Chief Judge Poritz said, “What we ‘name’ things matters, language matters.” Since the state has decided to sanction marriages, and people have associations with the word and what it means for their family, the state can’t deny individuals access to marriage based on whom they want to marry.

Overall though, this is a much more interesting debate to have than rights v. no rights. The real question, however, is if this means we now have to hang out in Hoboken.

Our GQ and Details Subscriptions Ran Out So We Have No Idea What To Wear Anymore...

We have been noticing a strange thing recently. Men in headbands. More specifically, STRAIGHT men in headbands. We're not talking about bandanas or sweatbands or those patagonia ones that keep your ears warm. We are talking the horseshoe shaped headbands my sister used to wear in 1993 or those bra strap all the way around the head thingies that my friends in high school wore in 1999. Friends who were GIRLS, obviously, since we are talking about high school.

Two (2) straight boys at this school wear the bra strap ones on a regular basis, and I saw a man in a black thin bedazzled plastic horseshoe shaped one last night on the subway kissing a girl. Yes, all of these men have fabulous, thick, longish hair, and kind of looked hot in their headbands. But I wonder, if a gay man came to school wearing a headband of any sort, we would probably brush him off as a ridiculous human being who wears a headband, and laugh in his face. In fact, when Bigmouth had longish hair and used one to hold his hair back when tanning two summers ago in the privacy of the home of the people in the hamptons we were mooching off of, we pointed and laughed for the whole afternoon, and got our friends to do the same. But put one on a straight man, and all of a sudden it is not only socially acceptable, but it sort of looks hot. Are we homophobic? Do we suffer from gay shame? Are straight men trendier than we are? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!? WE THOUGHT THE GAY MAFIA GOT RID OF THE METROSEXUALS!!!

But I guess there are tradeoffs. Straight men actually have to deal with bras, so maybe they deserve to wear the straps around their head. In fact, we're not even sure we could identify a bra strap. Also, headbands go much better with sports jerseys and pleated pants. Carry on then straight men, carry on.

Christmas Is Going To Be Extra Special This Year!

Sorry for our silence kids, but it’s that time of year when the work piles up, and our sense of humor diminishes with the waning sunlight. But our mood changed when we learned today that...

Jesus supports gay rights, say S.African Anglicans

YAY! Thank you Jesus!

South African Anglicans are talking a different talk about the gays than most Anglicans in Africa, who haven’t been too happy ever since the Episcopals in America consecrated a gay priest. Female priests make them mad too.

We actually ran into Archbishop Desmond Tutu in the hall yesterday at school (we're serious), and though we weren't able to get a comment, we were sure to give him a big smile, since we always like a religious figure who, according to a new biography, says he was "'ashamed to be Anglican' when the church rejected proposals to reform its stance on gay clergy in 1998," and who has compared homophobia to apartheid.

South Africa, whose top court told parliament to legalize gay marriage last December, attributes its more liberal view to the fact that its people were forced to “deeply think through fundamental issues” based on the “length and intensity of the struggle for liberation.” We think that's great, since we like rights too.

Contrast this to other African Anglicans, like Archbishop Peter Akinola, who said "I cannot think of how a man in his senses would be having a sexual relationship with another man.”

Um...we have never really claimed be in our senses.

“It is so unnatural, so unscriptural. Even in the world of animals, dogs, cows, lions, we don't hear of such things."

So not true! Someone needs to get himself to Oslo.

We Realized It's Been A Long Time Since The Dialogue Here Has Been Elevated

Ok, apropos of nothing in particular, we’ve decided that it’s time at the FAGAT Guide that we talked about a pressing contemporary issue. It’s one that everybody knows about, but nobody talks about. And quite frankly, we’re tired of having to deal with it in silence.

That’s right. We’re talking about penises with strange shapes.

Don’t pretend you don’t know what we mean. You’ve been there. You only ever discover a strangely-shaped wang when it’s too late – after a long night of drinking, or, even worse, after several very nice dates. You go home to someone’s apartment under the pretense of “watching Laguna Beach on DVR,” you wind up in the bedroom, you pull off the American Apparel undies, and gasp! …where there should be a DingDong, there’s a SnoBall.

We’re not talking about small penises, or huge ones, or even curvy ones. That we can handle. We’re talking about schlongs that defy classification. While many penises have straightforward nicknames like “The General,” or “Iron Mike,” these are more likely to be called something like “The Zipper,” or "Grimace."

For example, one of the first ones we ever encountered was shaped, roughly, like an apple that had been stabbed by a pencil. That can be very damaging for an eleven year-old to experience! (Okay, maybe we were more like 22) Since then we’ve found ones shaped like a beer can, a walnut, and even a softball. And these are always the hardest to deal with. The good ol’ “yank on it until it either breaks, or something comes out,” strategy doesn’t apply with weird dicks. Instead, it’s always “you do this twisty thing while I pull on it from behind,” or “put your face here, I’ll do the rest,” or, like, “just shove it all the way down your throat, and start humming ‘If I Had A Hammer,’ okay?”

And frankly, we’re tired of it. That is not what Peter, Paul, OR Mary had in mind when they wrote that song. We recognize that it must be very difficult to be hung like a marble rye, but there’s a common courtesy that should be involved, we think. 1) Potential bedfellows should be warned in advance, especially if there are special rules involved, like “never touch that spot” or “don’t make it mad, it bites.” 2) The owner should be responsible for ensuring his own pleasure, at least at first. It’s hard enough to figure out how the various regular ones work, so you have to give us time. When we’re in a loving committed relationship, then you can ask us to do “that thing with our ear.” And 3), be gentle. As wrong as it is to shove anyone’s body parts into your own various orifices, it’s doubly wrong if that body part is shaped like Truman Capote.

As YouTube Has Already Begun Its Decline, Purging Videos That Are Too Violent Or Japanese, We're Blogging Them While We Can

Translation: we don't have time to blog today, but this vintage Tony clip is really bigger, better, and bottomy-er than anything we could ever hope to write.

Ignored In All This, Of Course, Is The Fact That The Founder Of Mitt Romney's Religion Pacticed and Preached Bigamy. Defending Marriage, What?

Just was flipping through the internets today and came upon this essay in the Boston Herald about gay marriage. It makes a good point - gubernatorial candidates in Massachusetts should be asked whether they would support a referendum on gay marriage, or some sort of ballot question addressing the 2004 court ruling. But then it makes a detour into Crazytown.

While defending Republican governor Mitt Romney's choice to attend a religious rally against gay marriage, the author Joe Fitzgerald has this to say: "Critics say Romney trashed Massachusetts. Please. When it comes to homosexual matrimony, Massachusetts deserves trashing. That’s like saying Martin Luther King trashed Alabama. On the issues of his day, it needed trashing, too."

Um.... Huh. A comparison between America's strongest fighter for equal rights, and a man who is doing his best to remove rights already given to a previously unprotected minority. You're losing us.

Fitzgerald then goes on to say that gays are uniformly against a referendum, without quoting a single gay person, publication, or poll: "This community that once pleaded for tolerance has become the most intolerant of all, especially now that it’s been emboldened by four anarchical judges, answerable to no one."

Um... Huh. It's funny, because a lot of gays DO want a referendum, especially since many straight Bay Staters have seen that the legalization wasn't the apocalypse at all. More people than ever live near, or know, committed gay couples. Sure, the court case was a bonus, but we really want to have our unions legitimized by everyone, not judges. So actually, the ball's back in your court, Fitzgerald. You can try the old Republican trick of spinning the word "tolerance" to your benefit, but lately, that old card is working less and less. So don't make assumptions about the opinions of a community you clearly know nothing about.

To paraphrase something another loudmouthed old white Republican once taught us, "When you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME."

Somehow we can also imagine President Bush attempting to make that joke. And screwing up the punchline.

If "irony is coolest when it’s worn as an invisible undergarment" then we are golden since we never wear underwear anyway...

You may be wondering why Bigmouth wrote in two days in a row. The truth is that we went to see Hell House on Friday night at St. Ann's in DUMBO, a real evangelical "chamber of horrors" used to incite fear in teens about raves, abortion, and same-sex attraction, performed non-ironically by a theater company here in NYC for the sake of irony. Overall, quite the theatrical experience. But what scared us the most was the scene in which our friend KMZ was whisked away to hell for blogging about evangelicals. WE DID THIS ONLY HOURS EARLIER THAT SAME DAY! Also, the gays dying of AIDS and being damned to hell forever wasn't too helpful either. So realizing that we had two major strikes against us, we thought we would give our soul some time to rest.

Actually, we found it fairly easy to laugh at the spectacle before us. But the obvious question in everyone's mind is how things like this possibly get put up for realz, and what exactly is happening in the minds of young impressionable boys (who like other boys) after they see a man dying of AIDS in a hospital bed with Satan standing above him saying, "What kind of idiot believes that you are born this way." Pretty scary stuff.

Also we like how the doctor was wearing a kippah.

If Only Mark Foley Had Applied For Membership In This Organization.

Two weeks ago our dear friend Alex R. came to visit us in Madrid, along with Bates G. and EB K. As we had a cup of coffee by the pond in Retiro Park, Alex suggested to us that instead of adopting children when we get older, we should consider joining the Older Gay Club.

We have always sort of known that such an organization exists, but we weren’t sure if it was as deeply entrenched as, say, the noble and storied Hot Boy Posse. Apparently, instead of spending their money on children, the OGC spends it on travel, food, and interior design. Since most gay couples have two full incomes at their disposal, and lots of taste, it can be a very lovely lifestyle, we’ve heard.

And this weekend in Lisbon, we were exposed to a little bit of it. Even though this group was young and still upwardly mobile, they already were reaping the benefits of not having children. People were able to drop everything and come to Portugal to eat and drink for a few days, and not have to worry about babysitters, spouses, school, or Fat Upper Pussy Areas. Even though much of the crowd was divided between Paris and Washington, DC, this mobility allowed them to remain close. And they all had great skin.

We’ve always thought we’d end up buying two mixed-race toddlers at the Gay Baby Store (you may know it by it’s Russian name, “Kazakhstan”) and living in a duplex in the West Village. We’d have a home office and become addicted to pornography, while our husband would work all day, get a potbelly, and sexually harass the custodial workers. To us, this life seemed like the height of human sophistication. But now we’re beginning to ponder the other option. Maybe it might not be so bad to keep getting richer as we grow old, and still be able to travel and eat out whenever we want. Instead of paying $120,000 for our 18 year-old to be a student at NYU in the Village, we could pay only $300 to take an 18-year-old NYU student to dinner in the Village – and have sex with him afterward. One night of stained sheets versus over a decade of ruined imported Egyptian carpeting.

Anti-gay marriage activists would have a lot more success, we think, if they changed their argument. Instead of targeting straight people and howling “THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN,” they should just put up some ads in Chelsea that say “THINK ABOUT THE PHILIPPE STARCK FURNITURE!”

What Happens In Lisbon, Stays In Lisbon... Except A Sore, Overworked Jaw, Which Sometimes Takes a Few Days To Shake Off.

We are writing this post from a crowded Western Union in Lisbon. We're just finishing up a fantastic long weekend here, where we helped to celebrate the birthday of SP, a charming man who we didn't know before Friday. FHC invited us along because he was a little bit worried that we were lonely in Madrid and needed some gay company. He was afraid that we might have a difficult expat experience, similar to his when he first moved to America, but we've yet to find ourselves high on hashish with our ankles tied behind our heads in the dorm hallway of a Catholic seminary.

Anyway, we've had a wonderful time in Portugal, and the capital city is very gorgeous. We've had a lot of pastries and port, and have met many new international gays (mostly skinny Frenchmen). It was all very charming and included several nights of clubbing and a bus tour.

Which leads us to the question of today's post: What is it about traveling that makes gay people so goddamn horny? From our account, there were five new hookups in our weekend group of 20 people. We'll leave unaccounted how many of those were our very own. And there many more attempted ones, and probably ones that we don't know about.

When traveling to a foreign place, like Madrid, or Rhode Island, we find that gays are generally more touchy feely, more uninhibited, and less selective. Is it because everything feels so much more anonymous, as opposed to the cliquey "everyone will know what you did in the morning" atmosphere of New York or Washington? Or is it more related to the fact that being around so many exotic one-of-a-kind artisinal home furnishing boutiques just really sets our loins on fire?

Either way, after this weekend, we are very excited to return home to Madrid with some port, a few nice hand-painted wall tiles, and a whole new neighborhood of Paris to avoid next time we go to visit.

We Took A WHOLE Class About This In College and It Counted For Our Science Requirement....

The Oslo Natural History Museum has opened an exhibit about homosexuality in the animal kingdom, showing "gay or lesbian behavior among giraffes, penguins, parrots, beetles, whales and dozens of other creatures," including such fun things as a photograph showing "two giant erect penises flailing above the water as two male right whales rub together." We saw that once happen in the wild. Or was it in P-town?

But hell knows no fury like an evangelical called for a comment on an exhibition on gay animals in a museum 4400 miles away.

To better compare Norwegian Curators' views on this issue with those of American Evangelicals - we have created a nice color-coded comparative chart:

That took us a really long time to make.

We Don't Really Feel Homesick That Often. Until We See Something Like This.

We're not sure if this video is on TV yet in the US, as we only get two channels here in Madrid, and they only play ridiculous game shows that involve coconuts, small amounts of money, and a lot of dancing. So if you've seen it, forgive us the redundant post. It just sort of seems like this video is everything this blog stands for.

Man, These Posts Are Getting Long. Between Us And The Back Pages Of HX, This May Be More Reading Than You've Done Since 'Misty Of Chincoteague.'

Not long before we left for Spain, we attended a cocktail party on the verandah of a neighbor’s porch in Maine. There are about 30 homes in our little park, and summer people probably own 15 of them. Since it’s such a small community, obviously there is lots of gossip. For example, only certain people were invited to the party. Others, like the family with the $5 million home on the hill who cut down all the trees on communal property to improve their ocean view, were not invited.

A few years ago, a gay couple moved into the neighborhood, and caused quite a stir. They bought a tiny cottage on a high rocky perch and built a huge, gorgeous, purple house. The buzz increased to a fever pitch when one of the men, presumably the breadwinner, mysteriously died. Nobody was saying anything bad, that we heard, but they couldn’t stop talking about the GAY couple – or speculating about what happened.

Since summer houses on the Maine coast often change hands, there are always new families or couples coming and going from our neighborhood. In fact, the cocktail party was being thrown to honor a family from Brooklyn Heights who had just moved in. And, as we chatted with our gin and tonics, someone mentioned to us that a new older couple had bought another giant house on a bluff by the water. A few people nearby turned to say they had met them, and their plans for the house had been very lovely. Our dear mother had even brought over some chutney to them, and said hello.

As we walked home from the party, still carrying our drinks, we asked our mom about the newest couple.

“Oh, they’re very nice,” she said. “One of them is a doctor, and the other guy owns a gallery.”
“Wait, what? They ‘other guy’? It’s a gay couple?” we asked.
“Oh, yeah,” my mother said.
“No one even mentioned that they were gay, once, at the party,” we said.
“Oh. Well, they are,” said my mom. And then we gave her a hug.

A recent poll came out stating that seven out of ten Americans know a gay person. This is great news. Opinion polls on equal rights issues don’t reflect this exposure, sadly. But we still harbor hope that for every new neighbor out there who is gay, there will also be a cocktail party where people forget to mention it.

She Was Right, There IS Always Someone Younger And Hungrier Coming Down The Stairs After You....Or Was It Up The Escalator...

We had yet another missed celebrity encounter on Friday night. We were at the Chelsea movie theater on line for “The Queen,” (YAAAAY!!! PUNS!!!) when we looked ahead of us and spotted Jessie Spano herself (Ms. Elizabeth Berkley) taking photos with some overbearing gays. We have seen her out and about before, but not since we got our Bayside Tigers T-shirt. Ever since we got it, we have dreamed about running into her again and getting her to sign it and perhaps pose for a camera-phone picture.

The G*ds must have been on our side that night, because we suddenly realized that under our long-sleeve Gap Kids T-shirt and Marmot Fleece, we had thrown on said Bayside Tigers shirt!!! We quickly dumped our bags on our companion, and started chasing Ms. Berkley who had already finished with the “too old to have really been into Saved By The Bell” Queens (YAAAY!!!! PUNS!!!), and was on her way up the escalator.

As we said before, we sometimes lose all sense of self-control around celebrities, and so we starting yelling her name on the escalator as we were pulling off our top two layers. Obvi, our Bayside Tigers shirt got caught in the fray and it appeared to everyone around us that we were chasing her while ripping off our clothes. She ran. We ran. We lost our vision as the shirts came over our head, fell, and by the time we got up, not only were we shirtless and scrawny looking, surrounded by gym freaks, but we had lost one of the greatest opportunities of our life.

This was especially painful to us, as we know all the words and dance moves to Hot Sundae’s “Put Your Mind To It,” and have been known to recreate the pivotal “I’m So Excited” scene of her career at dinner parties.

But we’ll live. At least The Queen was good. Ms. Berkley wasn’t inside though. She would have been easy to spot, as had she been there, she would have been the ONLY female in the ENTIRE THEATER. Seriously. When HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh said “Elton John,” the ground literally shook.

In other news, the JAG protests went well – we were personally chosen to lead the “DOOO ask DOOOO tell” chant as the recruiters left the interview rooms and walked past us. A fellow OUTLaw noticed that they kept going to the bathroom together.

We were struck, however, by our non-OUTLaw classmates who were reluctant to wear rainbow ribbons when we were passing them out, our guess being because they thought it would lead people to believe they were gay. We suffered from this back in college before Bigmouth dragged us out of the closet, but we were curious if actual straight people who go to school in the West Village with oodles of ‘mos really worry about being perceived as gay. We’re not talking about people who support Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but people who clearly oppose discrimination, and probably have a gay friend or two, but still would feel “weird” wearing a rainbow ribbon. Is the symbol of “pride” too tied to “coming out” and “identity” to be worn by allies? When we still had ours on later that evening, even we thought that people would see it and automatically think that we were gay, not question whether we were actually gay or just an ally. Or maybe we felt that way because we were seeing The Queen...in Chelsea...wearing a Bayside Tigers shirt.

JAGS NEED FAGS!!! 2...4...6..8...JAG SHOULD NOT DISCRIMINATE....HEY HEY, HO HO, DA/DT HAS GOT TO GO...BRING IT ON BEE-ATCHES!!!!!!!

Tomorrow is when JAG comes on campus to recruit in violation of the Law School's anti-discrimination policy. You may remember that the Law Schools lost in the Supreme Court 9-zip when they challenged the Solomon Amendment, the law that allows the Guv'ment to deny entire universities funding if their law schools don't let the military on campus, but we're still going to bring it. (FYI, Yale Law School is fighting separately since they are smarter than all of us combined times 3, and their case is still ongoing).

JAG did something really smart this year though. They scheduled their interviews at 8:30am on a Friday, when most gays are getting out of bed to pee, pop more Tylenol, and wash the Duvet stamp off their hand before getting back into bed for 4-5 more hours. This is good military strategery.

But it won't work! We're going to show up, bright and early with our rainbow ribbons, tight ARMY t-shirts, massive headaches, and deep sense of anger at this outdated rule that serves no one, especially not an over-extended military in dire need of people. Don't Ask Don't Tell is not about national security, cohesive units, maintaining order, or improving military effectiveness. It is about bare discrimination and a desire to silence people, and it prevents people from one day (maybe not at the beginning, but one day) returning home after a tour of duty and saying, "I served with ______; he's gay and he's an awesome American. And he looks great naked."

Last year, this school's OUTLaws were put on "the list" of bad Americans, so I wonder if we'll be met by any counter-intel. If so, I expect our camouflage thongs will help us keep our cover.

Being Abroad Makes You Miss Very Important Things. We Only Found Out YESTERDAY That Eva Longoria Broke Up With Tony Parker!

This is bad news.

Former Congressman Mark Foley, who basically threw a hand grenade into the campaign heart of the Republican National Committee when all of this disgusting emails and IMs were revealed, has screwed the gays even as he finally admits that he is one.

Foley said yesterday, through his lawyer, that he was molested as a child by a priest, and that this may have contributed to the impulses that led him to become a sexual predator himself. This has become a re-play of what happened with Jim McGreevey. When the former governor of New Jersey held his “Gay American” speech, “Regular Americans” learned that gays are a) liars, b) corrupt and c) sexually aggressive against unwilling partners.

Now, Foley, by conceding that he is gay at the same time as revealing this childhood abuse, has taught to the same “Regular Americans” that gays are a) liars, b) sexual predators, c) twisted into their current, sick form by childhood sexual abuse.

Foley’s lawyer did say that Foley "does not blame the trauma he sustained as a young adolescent for his totally inappropriate e-mails and IMs [instant messages]. He continues to offer no excuse whatsoever for his conduct." But will anyone hear that? By announcing these messages at the same time, he’s making a pretty easy connect-the-dots picture for bigoted Americans who only want to hear that gay people are sick, or abnormal.

This amplifies a point made yesterday by Fishwatch. It doesn’t help that he’s in “rehab” and trying to combat a mysterious bout of alcoholism that none of his friends or cohorts ever noticed before. The amount of times that “treatment,” “recovery,” and “getting better” are used in the rhetoric of the scandal just add another link. “There’s something wrong with gay people,” Fox News viewers will hear. “They need to be fixed.”

The concept that a close-minded society is the cause of scandalous aberrations like Jim McGreevey and Mark Foley, rather than their innate homosexuality, is just too complicated to expect gay rights foes to grasp. Many of these people are the ones who think the world was created in seven days, remember. They like to keep it simple.

However, the most important question, we think, is this: can we get a picture of the fucking page, please? Come on bloggers, you have no journalistic integrity. Screw the kid’s right to privacy. With all this dirty talk, we need a visual!

It's A Good Thing We Don't Have To Atone Today Cause Going Without Carbs For Too Long Makes Us Do Even Worse Things...

We were a bit of a culture vulture this weekend. On Friday night we saw The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, and though it was cute, we think the best part was when the female lead's boyfriend came out during the curtain call and proposed to her. The audience erupted in applause and joy. Which got us thinking...even at one of the most liberal places conceivable, after the audience endured songs about such things as erections, would people have been as enthusiastic if the male lead's bf came out on stage and dropped to one knee? I would have, but not sure the all the tourists would have felt the same. Have any gay people proposed in such public spaces yet? Will the gays ever get to propose on the jumbotron at Yankee Stadium? Um...fine, at the U.S. Open? We'd even settle for the curtain call of a musical...

We digress.

We then went to see the pen-penultimate performance of History Boys, which may have been the greatest play we have ever seen on B-way. Not just because the history boys were the cutest things Britain has ever exported, but because it was smart, well written, well acted, and meaningful. Also, it didn't hurt that we were sitting next to another export from the UK, whom we asked to translate some of the jokes for us, and whom we tried to convince had an obligation to date us to make up for the 300 years of occupation of our motherland.

On the other side of us (yes we went ALONE) was a gay power couple from DC, who were, as you probably figured by now, lawyers. Now it is just getting ridiculous. The first person to meet an actual, real life, single gay lawyer wins two tickets to the History Boys movie. Just note that we'll be going to that alone as well, and sitting next to your actual, real life, single lawyer date, armed with talking points on jurisprudence.

On a side note, about this whole FoleyDirtyIMPageGate situation, we got a little angry (OK, a lot) when the religious right started saying, "See, we told you all the gays are pedophiles." HAVE THESE PEOPLE EVEN SEEN "TO CATCH A PREDATOR"???? If the awkwardness that ensues when the predator is confronted is not enough to get you hooked, then maybe NBC hottie Chris Hansen is. If even that is not enough, maybe these people should watch to remind themselves that their own kind has plenty of dirty, dirty people in the mix. Also, putting statements like these at the end of your press releases diminishes some of your credibility. Just some.

Americans For Truth is a non-profit, non-partisan group dedicated solely to confronting the homosexual activist movement.

Emphasis added. Stupidity original.

We Have Really Put Our Deductive Reasoning Skills To Good Use Today...

We don't listen to the radio much, but were driving to Newark the other day (don't ask) and had on Z-100 as we sat in the Holland Tunnel for about an hour. Did you even know you could listen to the radio in the tunnel? Science is amazing. Good thing, or we may not have heard the new single from Mario Vasquez. Who, you ask? Remember that guy who quit American Idol cause...um...he had issues with the contract or something? Well he has an album now and sings about girls and stuff with such graceful lyrics as,

And girl you're just way too fine
Gotta be treated as one of a kind
Girl use your mind
Don't be just another dime

That being said, the song does talk about art, and we all know that art is gay.

I can't take Seeing you with him
Cuz I know exactly what you'll be
In his gallery
It's just not fair
And it's tearing me apart
You're just another priceless work of art
In his gallery
In his gallery

And as you can see, the song talks about a gallery, and there are a lot of galleries in Chelsea, which is really gay. AND, we were in Chelsea on Wednesday, and walked by a Mario Vasquez poster on 10th Avenue, on which he looked really, really gay. So we guess that settles it then. As we said, science is amazing.

I Guess We Lied When We Said We Don't Encounter Celebrities, Cause We Are On A Roll. We Just Need To Hone Our Interview Skills...Or Just Talk To Them

We are very sorry people - we would have had a celebrity interview to post today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. After a Project Runway viewing at LL's apartment, we were on the E train heading to the east side when MALAN (Auf'd because of that gross evening gown) got on board scarfing down some pizza and wearing pleather pants. We were all ready to ask him his thoughts on the episode and fashion week, (in addition to channeling his mother and throwing his pizza to the ground and saying "NEVER eat this again!"), but the last stop in Manhattan came up and we were NOT willing to follow him to Queens. Maybe if it had been Keith or Kayne or Alison we would have ventured into the outer boroughs...

We won't give anything away to you people who have Tivo or DVR or whatever the kids have these days, but will say that we are really tired of Collier Strong's (consulting make up artist for L'Oreal Paris) smokey eyes demo. What the people really need to know is what kind of make up boys can wear to make themselves look better in very, very, very dark lighting.

Also, we've noticed that the top 4 designers this year don't include two crazy homosexuals as they did the last two seasons. Rather, there's one crazy straight man with a frightening tattoo and outlook on life, and one ambiguous man who says things like "fierce" and "sultry" and designs clothes for a living. Are we losing at our own game?

Fortunately, The Language Of Sausage Is Universal. And It Comes Easily On The Basque Tongues.

So traveling around Spain alone has been very fun, but not very gay. We just got back to Madrid from a tour of the Basque Country, spending a few nights in Bilbao and San Sebastian, and eating and drinking as much as possible everywhere in between. But the only flirty gay we ever encountered (for sure) was a very hot guy at the beach gym in San Sebastian. We were doing a good job of making eye contact with him, until we walked face first into a sharp metal support beam (which was hold up, of all things, one of those big, safe, inflated exercise balls) and began bleeding from our forehead.

We’ve found ourselves comically doing things alone that we’ve never done before. We’ve made dinner and lunch reservations for one, we’ve gone to bars by ourselves, and we’ve made countless other tourists take pictures of only us in front of interesting sights. And it’s been great.

One night, we were walking home from downtown San Sebastian along the boardwalk, after a crazed night out in the city’s Parte Vieja. We hadn’t heard English in a long time and were just realizing that fact when a pair of drunk American dudes walking beside us began talking loudly about the “totally sweet” dinner they just had. We struck up a funny conversation with them as we walked, and then they left to go down to the sand to be by the water.

We continued down the boardwalk towards our hotel, but turned back for a moment, just in time to catch their shadowy forms as they took off their clothes and went running together into the Atlantic. As they hit the first waves, one splashed up to the other and jumped into his arms. They clung together, and then fell into the water.

And there, as we stood in the shadows of a shuttered beachside café so they couldn’t see us watching, for the very first time we actually felt alone.


Thank G-d for international hotel television. Nothing says “We’re all in this together” like hearing Joey say “WÖ-ACH” in German on “Blossom.”

Sometimes We Look To The Internet To Entertain Us When We Are Bored...And Sometimes It Works...

A friend of ours in Bologna (that's in Italy people) writes in that the derogatory word for gay man there is "finocchio," which incidentally is also the same word for fennel. Of course, this was posted on Urban Dictionary two years ago, but we were not blogging back then, so it's irrelevant.

Anyway, we did a quick google search to get some info on fennel since it's not used too often in chicken jalfrezi and naan, the only dish we can cook, and what we found made us realize why gay men and fennel are so similar. Be sure to take this info with you next time you head to Chelsea Market or Barracuda.

In your market you will likely find the bulbs. They range from the size of a tennis ball to that of a soft ball (5-10 cm in diameter), and can be either spherical or taper towards the fronds; though there isn't much of a difference in flavor between the two I find that the spherical ones yield more. In any case, when you select fennel pick bulbs that are firm and blemish free; if they have brownish streaks or the outer layer looks somewhat deflated they are likely old or have suffered in transport.

And just for the record, the spherical ones definitely yield more.

It Has Only Been Two Weeks And We Have Already Run Out Of Things To Say...

On Saturday we went to Vlada for the first time (late, we know) which we thought was super fun, until the next morning when we had a massive headache and almost threw up dill, garlic, ginger and coriander infused vodkas. (Really, what were we thinking.) Anyway, we realized that since we now live on the Upper East Side (sad, but true), that we are going to have to hang out above 14th Street a little more, and so we are making the effort. Yes, the crowd is a little older than the East Village, but maybe this is a good think since 22 year olds are scary people and should never be trusted. While we miss being able to walk home in quiet despair from such cultural institutions as Boys Room and Phoenix, and we hate how our doorman now witnesses and judges this (now cab driven) quiet despair, we are hoping that proximity to Citarella and Hampton Jitney stops is going to provide a nice balance. We'll keep you posted.

And To Think, We're Missing All Those Great Conversations We Used To Have With Strangers In Bars

Hello from Madrid.

Tonight is our first big night out in Chueca, Madrid’s gay neighborhood. We’re already armed with the necessary basic vocabulary (“activo” = “top”; “pasivo” = “bottom”; “vodka y seltzer” = “vodka soda”; “Quiero alimentarte yeyo y mirarte cuando te haces una paja” = “I want to feed you blow and watch you jerk off.”) and we have a variety of small bills, so if this is anything like the East Village, we should be okay in an emergency.

Except we’re not exactly sure how, in Spain, one gay convinces another gay to go home with him. Not that we can take anybody home – we sleep on a squeaky single bed in a walk-through with a roommate who keeps the intervening door open because he “likes to hear us sleep.” But we’d like to know just in case someone makes the moves on us. Clearly, merely standing near someone and bouncing your shoulders to “SexyBack” while occasionally making fleeting eye contact (which was the foreplay mode du jour in NYC when we left) isn’t going to cut the mustardo here in España. And, probably, our go-to story about the time Adrian Grenier bought us a margarita at Starlight is going to lose a little in translation. So what’s a skinny gay expat to do?

We guess we’ll do what Hemingway always did: use small words, get drunk, and, if there are any complaints later in the game, assure them you’re only just using the “the tip of the iceberg.”

This Is Probably What the Boys At Stonewall Felt Like When Judy Died And The Popo Tried to F*ck With Them...

So last night was the Inter-Law School OUTLaw Mixer at Pieces Bar on Christopher Street. Last time we were at Pieces for our own Intra-school OUTLaw Mixer, we got so drunk we sang karaoke versions of SWV and Journey ("Weak" followed by "Open Arms") at 3:45am and tried to force ourselves on the cute owner who refused (hard to believe, but true). But at least he sent us on our way with a Pieces VIP free drink card.

Undeterred, the next day we spent about 5 hours drafting one of those perfectly constructed, witty, flirty emails you send to a crush in front of whom you were drunk and foolish - (“Hope our version of Weak wasn’t too weak” and “We usually have to pay for our Vodka Tonics before class each morning, but thanks to you now we won't have too!”), but didn’t get a response until 4 days later. FOUR DAYS! And it was one of those emails, of the “I am too nice to just ignore you” variety. You know of what we speak.

So we were a little hesitant about showing our faces there again, but who are we to refuse free drinks and potential husbands with potential future disposable income. Buuuuut...we drank too many Ruby Red and Sodas and again tried to sing 90s black female trio songs and make out with said cute owner. This time, however, not only were we were sent on our way, but we think our Pieces VIP card was confiscated too.

The saddest part? We are more disheartened about the lost free drinks. You can’t satisfy that craving on the internet.

We Bet The First Thanksgiving Got Pretty Hot With All That Corn...And Butter...And Feathers...

It's Wednesday, so time again for “Tales from the Casebook: Gay Gay Gay.” This week, we go back to a time of churning butter and clearing land...when Harvard was but a year old and still had Early Action...to discuss the history of Sodomy Laws.

Plymouth Colony
1637, August 6

John Alexander & Thomas Roberts were both examined and found guilty of lewd behavior and unclean carriage one with another, by often spending their seed on upon another, which was proved both by witness & their own confession...

That’s hot. And who was this “witness” by the way. Clearly if he’s telling on them, he has the 1637 version of Gay Shame.

It goes on:

...the said Alexander [was] found to have been formerly notoriously guilty that way, and seeking to allure others thereunto.

So...this guy goes around all day telling men to come over by him and then “spends his seed upon” them? We imagine the convo to have gone something like this:

Notorious John: Oh William! Come hither! I haveth something to show thee!”
William: Pray, I shall.
Notorious John: Isn’t this just divine? God hath not created a finer...O...M...G...UHHHH.
William: OH MY PURITAN LORD! MY EYE!!!

And it took until 2003 to get these laws overturned. America.

We Didn't Graduate With Any "Laudes" And We'll Probably Never Meet Mr. Right, And Yet We Have Already Written Our Entire Announcement...

Like many of you, we too cull through the Times Wedding Announcements on Sundays to see whose wedding we didn't get invited to and how ugly their new spouse is (sometimes SO ugly their photo is cut out). Also, we look hoping to find that couple that actually met on Friendster or Connexion or The Cock (nee The Hole) in order to keep our dreams alive.

Anyway, we were very moved by the Vows piece this weekend which profiled Adam and Steve, (that's not a joke), a cute gay couple who didn't know they were gay until Princess Di died (kind of like us).

We noticed that Steve was an associate at a firm in New York where we were interviewing today and we thought how nice it would be if we met him and could congratulate him in person. So you can imagine our excitement when the recruiter said that next we would be meeting with...you guessed it...Steve. YESSSSSSS.

Buuuut...sometimes we have trouble hiding our excitement when we meet people we know something about that they don't necessarily know we know. And today was no exception. Behold:

FW: OMG, OMG, we are SOOOOO thrilled to meet you! We were hoping all day that we would!
Steve: Um....
FW: We read the Vows section and noticed you worked here and what are the chances? Well...the chances are not THAT small since we asked to meet some gay attorneys and really, how many can there be here, but regardless, HI!!!!!!!
Steve: Um....
FW: SO...tell us...how has your life changed since Sunday? (We asked this one with the blog in mind).
Steve: Uuhhh...I have been getting a lot of emails from people.
FW: OH STEVE WE ARE SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!! MAZEL TOV!!!
Steve: Oh...well...I see that a client is calling, sorry to cut this short....

And that was that. Our first gay celebrity interview.

And just in case you were wondering, we DO in fact ask to meet gay attorneys at the firms where we interview, mostly because of our J.D./Mrs. program. But we've noticed that EVERY one we have met through this process has a ring on his finger and picture of a hottie on his desk. "Chad/Brad/Wade doesn't really work, so he comes to ALL the firm events and everyone just LOVES him." We're sure they do. Or, "Rusty/Dusty/Klaus and I have the summer associates out to Fire Island EVERY July and everyone just LOVES him." No really, we get it.

Perhaps we need to be more explicit with the recruiters who set up the interview days when they ask, "Are there any specific lawyers with whom you wish to meet?" "Yes," we should say. "The unhappy ones."

Maybe You Could Talk About This Issue Next Time You Are On The Phone With The Guy From Dell With the Accent...

It must be international week at Fagats (the UN is in session people) but today we were taken by the news about the campaign in India to eliminate Section 377 of the Penal Code which outlaws “carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal.” Famous Indian writers, artists, activists and Bollywood stars, led by author Vikram Seth, sent an open letter to the government calling for the "archaic and brutal law" to be struck down. The law has been routinely used by cops to blackmail gay couples caught in the act and stop HIV prevention work, and doesn’t help to put an end the rampant homophobia that exists nationwide. And this from the country that inspired “Bride and Prejudice” and “mango frooti.”

If our mom is any indication, we think Indian mothers might be the perfect group of people to get on board with this campaign. Their letter could read something like this:

Dear Government of India,

We don’t care who our son marries, as long as this person is a DOCTOR.

Love,
All Indian Mothers.

The Answer Was Right In Front Of Our Face The Whole Time! And, Sometimes, On Top Of Us, Or Behind Us, Or Inside Us...

Not only is Spain one of the only countries in the world to allow gay marriage, but its military also allows gays to serve. And, recently, they've begun to allow gays to get married in official military ceremonies. The first such marriage between two servicemen just happened in Seville.

It's not that the situation is without controversy or attention - the couple was chased around the city by the media after the celebration. Two low-level infantrymen were brave enough (or, probably, loved each other enough) to bear the brunt of the attention and go through with it.

But it wasn't even a question of bravery. The government realized they were denying some citizens rights that were granted to others, and rectified the situation before there were court cases. It wasn't that one gay couple pushed the policy through, as was the case in the Massachusetts gay marriage ruling. The Socialist Spanish governing party beat them to the punch. The couple that got married was just the first one to take advantage of the situation.

It makes you almost laugh to imagine what it would be like if the United States government had such an attitude. We don't begrudge the fact that that our democratic legislative and judicial processes are such a quagmire - radical change should be difficult, yet not impossible, to achieve. But these issues just aren't a wedge for Spanish voters, so the government can make small, positive changes without rocking the boat a crazy amount.

We just don't understand how this hasn't come up yet in the US. From what we've gleaned through extensive video and internet research, the military is just overflowing with incessant gay sex: in the showers, in the commisary, on the ships, on the pool table, in the officers quarters, in the barracks, in the woods - sometimes six, seven or eight men at a time! Let these people get married already! Then they'll stop all the sex, like all newlyweds, and start focusing on work for a change. No wonder Iraq is such a fucking disaster...

We Can't Wait For the Oprah Episode Where She Yells at Him and His Publisher For Making Up This Whole "Memoir."

Governor Gay's Oprah interview and book launch don't happen til Tuesday, but he's already getting a lot of sh*t for f-ing while his daughter was from her mother's womb untimely ripped.

As Andrea Peyser of The Post writes,

THERE are several words in the English language that can better describe Jim McGreevey than his chosen title, "gay American."

One word would be "whore."

We're sorry...is there a difference?

You Should Get This Book For Your Cousin in High School Who Likes Musical Theater and The Dixie Chics...

The Thursday Styles Section does not disappoint today with yet another article that has little to do with Fashion and Style and a lot to do with Gay.

We were very sad not to see our alma matter among the schools with the top "Gay Point Averages" in The Advocate College Guide for LGBT Students. With 20 being the top score, the results were as follows:

20: University of Pennsylvania; University of Southern California

19: American University; Ohio State University; Princeton; Pennsylvania State University; University of California, Berkeley; University of California, Los Angeles; University of Minnesota, Twin Cities; University of Oregon; University of Puget Sound

18: Duke; Indiana University; Oberlin College; Stanford; Tufts University; University of California, Santa Cruz; University of Michigan

17: New York University; University of Massachusetts, Amherst

We are quite curious how a school with more than 14 a cappella groups and 12 secret societies doesn't have a "gay point average" of at least 26. Other evidence for fuzzy math involved in this study is the fact that OHIO STATE and DUKE got more points than NYU. Have these people ever BEEN to Heaven's 18+ night? Did they ever try and get a drink at Pop Rocks' open bar back when that party happened? Is this "gay point average" based on how many hot athletes you can drug and lure back to your dorm with promises of straight porn?

When reviewing colleges, the guide "also has a 'Fun Queer Stuff to Know' box that includes information like 'best LGBT-cool athletic sport' and 'best LGBT-accepting religious/spiritual organization.'"

We think it would be far more useful to know things like "best room in the gym to find the closeted boys on the crew team making out" and "best way to clean the blood off the sheets after you take someone's virginity." Also "best mints to use to freshen your breath after puking in the middle of a hook up when you are not ready to go home yet" would have come in handy one or two times.

We Thought We Had To Leave the Bullsh*t Fluff Classes Behind After That “Homoeroticism In Abercrombie Ads” Paper In College...Boy Were We Wrong...

On Wednesdays, we have a seminar called "Sexuality and the Law." (This class is a requirement for our joint J.D./Mrs. program.) Since the reading for the class is filled with dirty, dirty things that we spend all day sharing with people on IM, we thought we might as well start a new Wednesday series called "This Is The Reason They Ban Books In the Midwest: Choice Quotes From A Gay-Ass Casebook."

This week we were lucky enough to read about Lesbian Sex. Marilyn Frye writes,

"[A recent study] found that lesbian couples have sex far less frequently than any other type of couple....In their sample, only about one third of lesbians in relationships of two years or longer 'had sex' once a week or more; 47% of lesbians in long term relationships 'had sex' once a month or less, while among heterosexual married couples only 15% had sex once a month or less."

And now that The View is syndicated, these numbers are only going to get worse. She goes on:

"It was brought to [Park Slope's] attention during our ruminations on this that what 85% of long-term heterosexual married couples do more than once a month takes on the average 8 minutes to do....I know from my own experience, that what we do that, on average, we do considerably less frequently, takes on the average, considerably more than 8 minutes to do. Maybe about 30 minutes at the least. Sometimes maybe about an hour."

An HOUR? Is she kidding? Don't these people have back episodes of Grey's Anatomy and Lost to get through?

"And it is not uncommon that among these relatively uncommon occurences, an entire afternoon or evening is given over to activities organized around doing it."

Now this is too much.

Gay men, sadly, feature nowhere in the article, mostly because we are usually blackout drunk and can't possibly remember how long it took. But some would argue that we too organize entire evenings around "doing it," except our evenings don't involve candles and batteries, rather, plastic bottles of vodka, cab fares, and a deep sense of regret.

The best part of the reading, however, is this little blow to all those straight women out there:

"I'm willing to draw the conclusion that heterosexual women don't 'have sex' either, that what they report is the frequency with which their partners 'had sex.'"

OH SNAP! And all you ladies get from it is 9 months of hemorrhoids and a lifetime of stretch marks...

We Try To Make Ourselves Understood, But "I Need Constant Attention And Positive Feedback" Doesn´t Translate Through Gestures And Facial Expressions

Hola amigos!

We´ve been in Madrid for three days (the older, crustier Fagat, that is) and boy are our wrists tired (that´s a handjob joke). The city is great, the people are lovable, and of course, we generally have no idea what is going on.

But, here are some quick things we´ve learned about Madrid (we don´t know how to make fancy bullet points like New Fagat, so bear with us):

1) It is cool here to wear capri pants
2) It is also cool to have a mullet
3) The coolest thing, however, is to wear trashy American slogan tees.
4) Everyone here, basically, looks pretty faggy
5) Nopody really works after 2 pm. Instead, like the graceful manatee, they eat, rest, and then look for more food to eat.
6) Things that they don´t eat include vegetables. Mostly it´s just bread, booze, cheese, sausage, and cigarettes.
7) Naturally, we love it here.

Yesterday, we had a martini and some tapas at a streetside cafe. Except we accidentally ordered an entire plate of serrano ham. Though we are going to die approx. 5 years sooner because of it, we don´t regret it. It was the best thing that´s ever happened to us.

The best part is, Americans are super popular at gay bars. You don´t even need to speak Spanish. Just having blue eyes, or blonde hair, or freckles, is enough to get you as much "culo" as you want. (For those of you who are not native speakers, that´s Spanish for "boygina.")

We miss you already! Just kidding!

Our Father Told Us We Were Bad At Sports Because We Lacked "Mental Toughness." That's Also What Our Eyebrow Threader Tells Us When We Cry In Pain.

We have been suffering from withdrawal the past 2 days, and it's far worse than the last K hole we were in. This withdrawal is not something you expect from a gay, since it has to do with...(gasp)...SPORTS!

Our withdrawal stems from the fact that the U.S. Open is dunzo. We watched it pretty religiously, and even resorted to backstabbing friends and family to get tickets for Andre's last win EVER. But we've been questioning why the gays choose Grand Slam Tennis, along with Olympic Swimming, Diving and Figure Skating as the only sports we really care about. Here are some thoughts:

• These events only happen once a year, or once every four years, for only about two weeks. Since we have short attention spans and can't commit, we choose to care about sports we don't have to deal with for a whole season, after which we can go back to Beige having only missed two weeks.
  

• These sports are individual, and don't bring back memories of taking the bus back to school after the soccer game against Friends Academy when everyone on the team starts yelling at you and throwing things at you and calling you names since you accidentally scored on your own goal. (I WAS HIT IN THE HEAD WITH THE BALL AND WAS DISORIENTED YOU F*CKERS).

• Players of these sports are incredibly, incredibly hot.

• Players of these sports are incredibly, incredibly gay.
  

• Related, how can you not love a sport that renames its national hub in honor of a big, giant lesbian?

• And lastly, not only can we enjoy watching these sports, but we can enjoy playing these sports as well, since they allow us to freely wear our massive collections of tight shorts, speedos, and swan costumes.

You Survived Without Martha and Lil' Kim For a Few Months, You Can Surely Make it Through This...

Welcome to The FAGAT Guide: Guest 'Mo Edition. We hope this is less tramautic than the time Kelly and Jessie mysteriously disappeared from Bayside High and leather-clad, motorcycle riding, pole and the hole liking Tori was there instead.

We are very happy to be here, and hope we can live up to your expectations during our stint as guest-blogger. Please keep a few things in mind:

1. Unlike Bigmouth, we are productive members of society, and therefore we apologize in advance if we miss a day or two. And since we are productive members of society, we don’t really interact with “celebrities,” so don’t expect any exclusive interviews with any of them. Well, maybe the occasional star-f*cker photo will show up, but VERY rarely.

2. Unlike Bigmouth, we don’t “go out” or “date” or "get dirty texts” or even “get messaged” on “friendster.” We sit and read in a library all day. Hence, we have an even more cynical view of the world, if you thought it possible. Sometimes this may come across as bitter. And it is.

3. Unlike Bigmouth, we are the children of immigrants, and thus don’t speak or write English too good. Grammar and syntax are not priorities when you only have rice and fishpaste to eat, and spend all day praying for Sally Struthers to come over.

4. Finally, in the interest of full disclosure, we just want to say that Bigmouth is the reason we are gay, since he forced himself upon us in a squash court stairwell sophomore year of college, back when we liked girls. That and the a cappella, of course.

Bigmouth, we wish you the best of luck in Spain, and please, BE SAFE. Last time we were there, we lost our friend at a gay foam party only to find that he had slipped on the stairs and was under the chest-high foam for 2.6 minutes. He was OK, but surfaced with a bruised hip and syphilis. And be sure to figure out how to say “We don’t want to go to the back room with you” before you get there. Unfortunately, they didn’t teach that to us in Spanish Club.

Change Is Difficult. But So Is Shaving Your Testicles, And You've Gotten Quite Good At That, We Must Say - So This Should Be Fine.

As you may have heard, your friendly neighborhood Big Mouth is leaving the country on Saturday.

He is headed to Madrid to live with the gays and study their mating habits for the next four months. He will miss all of you, and hopes that you will miss him.

But never fear! Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, we will be born anew! Actually, rather than a phoenix, it's more like that time on "Roseanne" when they got the new Becky and nobody pretended it wasn't ridiculous.

While Bigmouth will be posting updates of his wacky international misadventures, we have asked a very important friend if he would take over the day to day writing of the blog. He has not said yes yet, so those of you who know him, please peer pressure him into it.

If he does accept, we hope you will give him a grand welcoming like you did Katie Couric.

And then, of course, talk shit about his outfits behind his back.

And Yes, It Was Embarrassing For Everyone Involved

We experienced something new for the first time this weekend: surrogate relationship hysteria.

We took a road trip to Maine with four of our very best, closest, truest friends. Scheduled to come on our trip was one long-term boyfriend of a posse member - but shortly before the trip, the two of them broke up.

And the ex came anyway.

We're not sure why one would decide to go on a long weekend road trip with one's recent ex and his four best friends, but there it was.

And something interesting happened: because our friend (LL) and his ex (FHC) were so zen about their breakup (they still "love" each other and "talk" to each other and "respect" each other and even "spoon" each other), the rest of us were driven to insanity.

If LL would go to the bathroom, we'd turn on FHC as a group. "WHY CAN'T YOU GET BACK TOGETHER?!" we'd shriek. "DON'T YOU REALIZE WE'LL NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN IF YOU DON'T?!" When FHC would not immediately agree, our hysteria would only deepen. "YOU LOVE EACH OTHER!" we'd wail. "CAN'T WE JUST WORK IT OUT? CAN'T WE JUST TRY HARDER?! JUST TELL US WHAT TO CHANGE AND WE'LL CHANGE IT!!!"

It was very embarrassing. And it only got worse if FHC would step out of the room for a moment. "ll," we'd whisper in hushed tones. "you're never going to do better than fhc. you had better get back together with him or you'll always be alone. aloooooooooonnnnnneeeeeee....."

By the end of the weekend, it had gotten so bad that we would talk openly about it their sex life, as a group. "If you guys don't get back together, you're fucked for the rest of your lives," one of us would serve up over lunch in a diner. "That was the problem in the first place!" another would drive home, making it very awkward for our pre-teen waitress.

There's not really a moral of the story, except for the fact that those of us who are in stable relationships, or are desperately seeking them, don't understand why people who have them can just let them slip away. It's like having a free trainer at David Barton Gym, and deciding you'd rather just go home and smoke a cigarette instead. It boggles the mind.

But whatever, throw away your happiness, see if we care. It's your loss.

Anyway, you'll come crawling back. And when you do, we'll be at the bar.

If You Couldn't Guess, We're Not Posting On Monday, Either

Sometimes when we have nothing to write about we just Google News the word “gay” to see what’s been going on in the world. Today we merely Googled “gay,” and noticed that when you do so, the only sponsored ad banner that pops up at the top of the Google page is for “PositiveSingles.com.” The banner reads: “Date Singles with STDs.”

Obviously, we immediately clicked on it, and were completely unsurprised to find that it is a treasure trove of amusements.

We were going to write a whole post about how hilarious it is that people with STDs might be sitting around poring over online profiles of other people with STDs, but in the end we thought it would be tasteless. It would be like making fun of gay people who are fat. Sure, it’s their fault, but it’s really more sad than funny.

So instead, here’s a cartoon we liked: