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Thursday, September 29, 2005

Hurricane Katrina Relief Cabaret at elmo Lounge

Because I love the good people at elmo in Chelsea, I thought I'd show my support by helping advertise their charity benefit on October 5th. So here goes:

For four years the sexy and sassy staff of elmo restaurant has serviced our customers in Chelsea. We’d like to do more. On Wednesday, October 5th, we’ll showcase our other talents in a cabaret benefiting the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Proceeds will be donated to AIDS Alliance Hurricane Relief Effort and America’s Second Harvest Food Bank. A night of singing and dancing will be complimented by a raffle with prizes including cash, Martha Stewart tickets, a Fashion Week gift bag, and a personal training session with the lovely Mark Pettigrew.

8,000 people with HIV and AIDS were displaced by Katrina. The Montrose Clinic in Houston, which specializes in treating the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community, opened their doors to those without medical supplies and clinics. The influx of refugees drained the available supplies and insurance monies. AIDS Alliance of America organized a relief effort specifically for the victims of Hurricane Katrina and the clinics aiding them. 100% of funds raised will go to those in need.

So please, join MC Jeff Giordano, the staff of elmo and our friends for a night of singing, dancing and pure entertainment. Wednesday, October 5th, 8:00 PM elmo lounge. Doors open at 7:00 PM. $20 cover charge. Open bar.

Make your way on over. Cute staff, entertaining performances, a good cause, and open bar. What more could you want? I'll see you there.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Please Sir, I Don't Want Anymore!

I keep ripping on Hollywood's lack of creativity as if I were some sort of film critic. However, nothing could be farther from the truth; I'm just a casual movie-goer. But even in that capacity, I'm savvy enough to spot the hackneyed flicks that Hollywood is trying to pass off as blockbuster movies.

Case in point, the new version of Oliver Twist, which according to IMDB is the 19th rendition of the classic Dickens novel. Are you fucking kidding me?? The last Oliver Twist was in 1999 and I don't remember the date when the more famous one came out. But is there really nothing else in the movie pipeline? Aren't there THOUSANDS of screen writers, script writers, MAD LIBS writers out there just DYING to turn their pointless drivel into a film?

I feel like I'm living in a time machine. Everything I see now is a remake of something from the past: Willy Wonka, Bewitched, the list goes on! And the worst thing is that, true to form, this new remake is really nothing different or more stellar than the "original" version. So what's the point?

The sad reality is that my fellow movie-goers just sit back and do nothing in protest. True, movie sales have been down this summer compared to last, but that's still not enough. At the very least, Hollywood should be boring and unamazing us with original scripts with unique plots, not a trite mélange of old storylines and new actors or a "90's version" of an old classic.

Instead, the only "new" films come in the form of dumb-ass comedies like The 40-Year Old Virgin and Wedding Crashers where you need but only an elementary school education to understand their inane slapstick comedy and mutter a chuckle.

Everyone's a moron (including the President) with an elementary school education, you say? Then I must be in the right decade. Fuck, so they didn't invent a time machine.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Presidential Speechalist

I came across this hilarious video from Comedy Central about Dumb-ass Bush called Harlan McCraney, Presidential Speechalist. It's hysterical.

As if there weren't enough examples of Bush sounding like a complete and utter moron, here are some fun quotes from the video:

In my state of the -- my State of the Union, err.. state -- my speech to the nation... or whatever you want to call it.

Way to give up, Bushy!

I know that Human Being and Fish can co-exist peacefully

Is he talking about living with Laura? Cuz that fish is spoiled!

If you're workin' hard to put food on your family...

Maybe if Laura's snatch didn't smell so much like fish, he wouldn't have to put food on her!

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Holy Incest, Batman!

I was sent a link to the most bizzare and disturbing website. How my friend found it is beyond me, but he was equally as disturbed.

West Virginia strikes again! This time, it's in comic form, titled My Wild and Raunchy Son. Some crazy-ass guy created a comic book about a "loving" relationship between a father and son. It's basically about them fucking each other. What kind of madness is that?! Apparently the whole comic is about incest, because the father seems to have fucked his brother, and wanted to get fucked by his own father, but unfortunately his father died before he had the chance to. Absolutely nuts!

I was going to post pictures from the comic, but it's just too shady. It's scary that there are nutty-ass people out there who draw entire comics about parents fucking their kids and siblings. *shiver*

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Give it a Rest(Stop)

Just when you thought civility had finally infiltrated the gay community, out comes an article about gay men and their lascivious suburban behaviors.

I thought Rest Stop cruising was a thing of the past. http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifApparently it's still en vogue in suburban New York. Who knew?

So Clever
Leave it to the gays to create some insanely complicated set of cruising rules that can only be deciphered via a Cap'N Crunch decoder ring.

Each has its own culture and often its own set of protocols, ranging from parking position to the flashing of headlights or blinkers as mating calls.

I guess the old men just couldn't handle it when the handkerchief codes went out of style. This was probably about the same time when GayDD and drug abuse hit their peak -- faggots just wanted to get LAID and couldn't be bothered with for "I'm horny, let's fuck now!" I don't blame them. It requires props AND knowing your left from your right. Shit, I could accidentally stick a red hanky and a purple hanky in my right pocket and end up with a piercing and getting fisted. NO spank you!

You know you're a shady gay man when you're ugly shoelaces match your ugly socks, creepin' up your ugly calves.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Run for Cover, Motherfucker!

Some slut named Rita is blowin' her way into town. She's apparently gonna be a category 4-some, so you better bear down and get ready. Strap yourself in and feel the G's, cuz she's cummin'!!


Post some comments, motherfuckers!! :)

If I'm being a slacker about posting -- err -- postings, then that means you bitches need to pick up the slack and start posting comments. Yeah, that logic seems about right :)

Monday, September 19, 2005

Come Out Come Out Wherever You Are

I'm a sucker for a gay plot. OK, well I'm a sucker for a gay anything. Ok, I'll be a sucker and it doesn't have to be gay.

But I digress. I just caught this movie, Partner(s), on Lifetime. It's about a lawyer who pretends to be gay in order to make partner in his firm. And hilarity ensues. Well, twists and turns ensue.

The movie stars some dude, Jay Harrington, who's actually quite cute. It also starts Michael Ian Black, who, surprise surprise, plays a gay guy. Is he out yet? Did I miss the memo? I have no clue.

Well, he may not be out, but it appears that Lifetime has finally come out of the closet! After years of suspicion, and insidiously garnering the love of many gay men through use of the Golden Girls, the channel has finally thrown some officially gay programming on their line-up. In addition to this new movie, Partner(s), they've added Will & Grace to their 11:00 timeslot.

True to gay form, Lifetime is just following the money. After Bravo came out and loaded its programming with gay-oriented shows, the channel skyrocketed to national popularity, from absolute obscurity. Lifetime just seems to just want a piece. How gay.

But, as much as I mock it all, I'm obviously glad that there's so much "enlightening" programming on the air. Besides, as I said, I'm a sucker for a gay plot. Yuppers.

Sunday, September 18, 2005

PR, Darling

Well slap a smile on my face, because the good people/person at PerezHilton.com gracefully added my name to one of their postings. Of course, I was also at the over-crowded, unimpressive Heatherette party but I suppose it just didn't make for good copy to list out the names of everyone there.

Although, I was also at Randy Jones' and Keith Collins' birthday party and wasn't mentioned in that posting, as well as Boy George's B-Rude afterparty.

But I'm happy to be mentioned in anything, nonetheless. Yay!

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Minority Report: MinoriTees

Thursday night was the amazing launch party for MinoriTees' Fall line at Highline in the Meat Packing District. If you were there, you know how fun it was. If you weren't, you missed out. If you were invited and didn't go, you're lame.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Miss Manners

Slide into your desks, bring me an apple, and listen up, because class is in session.

Unfortunately, I feel the need to school some people on some of the simpler points of culture and manners. Jai Rodriguez's Queer Eye failed to do a proper job. Quel surprise!

I miss manners. I don't know where things went wrong, but it seems as if parents have forgotten to teach their children (who are now my peers) basic manners. So since Jai, Mama, and Papa have dropped the ball, in comes GothamWhore to save the day.

Some tips and guidelines to abide by in most social settings:

#1: Gluttony
In any situation, always err on the side of being more conservative. If you're offered a taste of something, let it be just that -- a taste. Remember, you're not the one eating or drinking whatever it is. You're the one tasting it.

#2: Chewing
Oldest rule in the book. Chew with your mouth closed! I don't want to hear lips smacking or see food tumbling around in your mouth like trash in a dump truck.

#3: Small Talk
Small talk is called that for a reason -- it should be kept to a minimum. I don't need a stranger's life history; I can pretty much tell whether or not I care about the person in the first 10 minutes of speaking to him or her.

#4: Shut Up, Just Shut Up Shut Up
Stop talking about yourself. The reason why people talk about themselves is because they only care about themselves. Guess what? It works the other way, too! Nobody wants to hear about you, they only care about themselves. So try to pick a topic that both parties of the conversation are interested in or else just be content with sitting there in silence until you find that topic.

#5: Attention Whoring
We get it! Nobody pays attention to you and that's why you're constantly raising your voice or talking about yourself or pointing out how great you are. The ironic thing about PR is that the power of public relations stems from the fact that it's someone ELSE giving you praise. If you're telling people how great you are, it's just not believeable. So stop desperately craving attention and maybe you'll actually get some legitimate attention. Until then, shut up, just shut up shut up.

#6: Just Do It
Say what you mean; mean what you say. Don't lead people on, don't make commitments you can't keep. It's rude and doesn't help you build any credibility with others. So if say you're going to do something, either follow through and do it, or don't mention it in the first place. Being fake is whack.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Fashion Weak

Fashion Week is in full swing and New York has now been flooded with more models than you can shake a pretzel stick at. Unfortunately, with them come a lot of self-aggrandizing bastards. Thankfully I haven't run into any of them yet, aside from the one I see in the mirror every morning.

I basically curse Fashion Week everytime it comes around because it's just a constant reminder of how much of a slacker I am when it comes to going to these shows. Every day and every night there's something going on and I drop the ball every season. This lame social fatigue comes over me and I just shrink into the background.

Fashion Week also exacerbates the fact that I put little to no effort into how I dress. If it takes me more than 10 seconds to figure out what I'm wearing -- based on a combination of what's clean, what's comfortable, and the weather -- then I'm just like "whatever" and head out anyway. My desire to be creative with my wardrobe has lessened more and more over time. Besides, when I go out I usually am forced to get by on my sparkling personality only, which is also ebbing.

So can someone please just send me free clothes so I don't have to think or dress myself? That'd be great. Thanks.

[Note: I just want to point out that that is NOT me in the heinous picture. I never include pens with that outfit.]

Thursday, September 08, 2005

And Then There Were Three

Just when I think I've seen it all, I get sent a link to a webiste that shows nipple piercings. THIRD nipple piercings!!!

Aww Hell no! What kind of F'd up S is that?!

Slava's No-No

Last night I saw Slava's Snowshow at the Union Square Theatre. I didn't know what to expect, but everyone really hyped it up saying that they'd heard good things about it. It's supposed to be to clowns what Cirque du Soleil is to the circus.

Ok, let me just start by saying that I hate clowns. They're scary, they're freaky, and they make no damn sense.

This show wasn't any different. I couldn't decide if I wasn't intelligent enough to understand the show or if I wasn't UNintelligent enough to understand the show. But as I watched some dim-witted girl clap to hear heart's desire, I decided it was the latter.

It's as if whoever wrote the show took an LSDetour into hallucinagenville because the show just made NO sense. It opens with a scary-ass clown carrying a noose, trying to hang himself. I had a headache when I started watching and of course there's this whole scene where the suicidal clown just starts blowing on these two kazoos. I thought I was going to die.

Intermission. Are these clowns or magicians? Because they made half the audience disappear!

I ended up falling asleep (thankfully) toward the end of the show, only to be awakened by a trillion decible blast of O Fortuna, accompanied by a (well wouldn't you know) snow storm of what seemed like rolling paper. Yippee!!

The best part was the end -- for numerous reasons, one of which being that they threw all these big bouncy balls into the audience. I almost got hit in the face by the blue balls (for the first time that night).

The whole thing was too much. I needed a drink. Slava should have paid for it. But thank god I didn't pay to see Slava.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005


You crafted the plan: A vacation to New York. Now you just need to come up with the funds to execute it.

Sometimes I'm absolutely astounded by the sheer idiocy of gay men/boys. They are so predictable and simplistic. They're always looking for the easy way out or the quick fix. And they'll sell their souls (or at least their bodies) to do it. You know what that is? Faggotry.

Faggotry is behavior exhibited by gay boys and men that exudes from the complete and utter self-centeredness of -- well -- a faggot. It's about not having to earn anything or put forth an effort. It's about finding the easy way out; the quick fix. It's similar to what skanky women like Anna Nicole do to survive. Since they have no brains, they only asset they can leverage is their body. But it's not about prostitution, it's about the mentality behind the behavior; the congnition that they can have anything they want, if they only sell themselves the right way and to the right people.

The latest example of pure faggotry came in the form of some stupid faggot from the South wanting to come up to New York for the long weekend.

He started with "looking for help" to get him up to the city. I can only imagine that this meant that he wanted someone to pay for his flight. I'm sure Greyhound would have done just fine, but I'm also sure that he wouldn't have wanted to shell out the $50 to get here. So what does he do? He starts ho'ing and begging for someone to pay for him to take a vacation somewhere. Faggotry.

Apparently he found some pathetic sucker to "finance" his trip to the Big Apple. However, it seems that this was only a temporary fix.

In astoria queens right now visiting friends..they are going out of town tomorrow, so needing a place to stay....why the fuck will no one is this city help me out with a place to crash? - Nobull23-

It's called, get a hotel room! Is it just me or is it absolutely irrational to think that someone in New York (of all places!) would just randomly offer a stranger a place to stay? And on top of that, to complain that no one will be outrageously charitable toward someone they don't even know? Faggotry.

I can only assume that this faggot has since packed his bags and headed back to Charlotte where I can only assume he's from. I hope he enjoyed his stay in our fair city. I also hope he caught at least one ever-lasting STD as a souvenir.

But the sad reality of it all is that despite his self-centered behavior, there are about 100 people waiting in line to "help him out" for the next free vacation he wants to take. And until these people develop some self-respect, then they too deserve everything they got. And that, my darlings, is the essence of faggotry.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Socio-Cultural Fagonomics

What's black and white and red all over?

Certainly not the New York Times. The Times is a fucking RAINBOW that's read all over. The people there love themselves some homo-talk. And I love them for it.

The latest article, from the "Fashion and Style" section -- because they know nobody will read it anywhere else -- is Rich Gay, Poor Gay; referring to the increasing polarization of the gay community in Provincetown, MA due to socio-economic status.

Wealthy and new-money gays are buying up the land converting them into condos and bed & breakfasts into single-family homes. As demand surges and supply becomes more scarce, the area is becoming increasingly unaffordable for the town's typical denizens and visitors. Apparently real estate prices are skyrocketing in the town, up 33% over the past two years.

"It's the bourgeoisification of the gay world."
-- Andrew Sullivan

[It kills me that he said "bourgeoisification"!]

Many are concerned that these new developments will change the culture and personality of the town, as older and wealthier gay and straight people move in. Though, I don't understand why this is so surprising or alarming. The upscaling and gentrification of a once bohemian area is nothing new to the gay community. Hasn't the trend always been that the homos move in, throw around some glitter, clean the place up, and then get booted out when they can't afford the rent after the fifth Starbucks moves in across the street? Isn't Chelsea now just an area full of single women and old ladies with rent-controlled apartments with gay men walking the streets?

And aren't gays just survivors by nature? Don't they always figure a way around the problem? Particularly ones that involve beaches and alcohol?

Shall we not forget the oldest trick (no pun intended) in the book? A little relationship dynamic that could have changed the article's title to "Young Gay; Sugar Daddy"? Silly faggots will always find a way to lay (no pun intended) on the beach.

So these rising real estate prices seem to be on par with the rest of the past -- nothing new. It's just a matter of finding the right old man with the right new condo who's ok with being left behind so you go out with boys your own age and be left alone.

A Slut in Sheep's Clothing

"I'm new to the city"

We've all heard it before, mostly from boys who play up their naivete in order to appear innocent when in fact they are uber-whores.

For one reason or another, it seems like I've been hearing a lot about these types of boys. It's either the excuse that they're new to the city, so they can't be held accountable for whatever skanky mistakes they make -- as if being new to New York from San Francisco is that big of a change. Either that or they hide being the fact that they're "from the South" somehow implying that they're more timid than the rest of us.

However, no matter what the excuse, sooner or later, everyone finds out that they've been parlaying that 'innocence' into more sexual encounters than a hooker on welfare.

So are these boys a blight on the city? Or is this just part of the assimilation process?

Either way, I say fuck 'em and toss 'em. Then pray you don't catch an STD.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Stalk Much?

I don't know whether to be flattered or scared. Someone at Morrison & Foerster, apparently a law firm, basically viewed like EVERY page of my blog today.

I'm not sure what to think of a law firm that refers to itself as "MoFo", but I'm definitely want an email address there: GothamWhore@mofo.com.

So whoever you are, come out of the stalker closet and say "Hi". Or at least leave some comments! Lord knows nobody else does!


A loony old lady in South Africa invented an anti-rape female condom to address the growing cases of sexual assault in her country.

Scientifically speaking, you take the fem-jimmy hat and shove it up your pussy, then just wait around to get raped. When you finally do, barbed spikes hook onto your assailant's dick. Once they're hooked in, they can only be surgically removed at a hospital, thus making it easier to identify rapists.

Apparently the condom is supposed to stun the attacker (for what, all of a second??) thus giving the female (or possibly male, right?) time to escape, somehow.

OK, a couple things about this don't make any sense to me:

1) Exactly how loose are women's pussys that they can just shove this thing up there and wear it all the damn time just waiting for a dick to fly up there, with enough space to go directly in the middle of the condom, thereby getting "hooked" by the barbs? That's a blown-out bitch!!

2) How is this condom supposed to really help women getting raped? Seems to me like the guy would just get pissed off and instead of rape, it would turn into homicide.

3) I can just see the number of false cases where some dumb cunt shoves the condom up her dumb cunt and her boyfriend fucks her only to have that thing latch onto his dick, he has to go to the hospital, and now he's on some sexual predator list.

Although, I'd love to be the one behind the CVS counter selling these condoms. Because you know it would only be the ugly chicks buying these things for fear that they'd get raped. Lies. I'd just have to laugh and be like "Gurl, don't worry. Here, have a popsicle."

Racial Profiling: Media Magic

Sad, but hilarious post on Lady Bunny's blog about how Blacks 'Loot' and Whites 'Find'

That's some F'd up S, if you ask me.