i don't mind gay beaches so much. if i can stomach indian summer afternoons at dolores park, midwestern shores should be a piece of cake. in fact, the day itself was quite pleasant. when we first arrived, just a tad before noon, our patch of sand was sparsely populated, primarily with old school queers sporting neon thongs and darque tans. for those of you unfamiliar with the darque tan, it is purveyed by a chain of salons, first brought to my attention on a business trip to houston, texas (a thoroughly despicable noplace). the "-que" gives it an "ooh la la" that would only play in south texas. but pardon my digression.

around twelve thirty, the homobots began to arrive en masse. perfect hairless pecs and squarecuts trunks as far as the eye could see. you know, what i'm talking about. now, as a culture, us queers are socialized to raise this vision up as the ideal. and even i am not immune to this. i often find this crowd simultaneously desirable and repulsive. yet, on saturday, i merely found them fascinating. this is why.

congregating on the beach, as opposed to a darkened bar or nightclub complete with blaring techno, requires them to (gasp) interact with one another, not simply stand and model. for individuals clearly unfamiliar with focusing any attention or energy on anything other than themselves, the results can be quite humourous. did you ever make ken and barbie kiss? imagine grown human beings greeting each other in a similarly stiff, sterile manner, almost ritualized in its passionlessness. not to mention the purses falling out of mouths left and right. but even "faggots in the mist" grows tiresome after about an hour. i decided to flee the scene when i found myself imagining the entire thing as an ad from the plastics council.

meanwhile...

are you ready for the day when the lowly cigarette ceases its function as the prop of the everyman and becomes a sacred totem of the rich? what with all the taxes going up (even illinois' jumped 40 cents on july 1), soon only the well-to-do will be able to afford this luxury. can you imagine? smokes as a status symbol? that'll be the day...in a not-so-distant future.

i've been quite lax on the pop culture tip these days. especially given that i had NO idea that mtv's undressed had returned with an all new season. i know, i know, it's trash. but i just loves me it. trite dialogue, preposterous situations, abysmal acting. but as close to sex farce as anything gets on american television. proof that all it takes is a blow job to get plastered all over mtv. just like brian mcfayden. doh. i mean, i just like it for the nudie, though the guys this time around aren't all that. dramatic tension is provided this time by an enormous penis and plushies! whoowee! plushies! to be more specific, a panda and a squirrel. and the oh-so-subtle hint of lesbo action. always with the gays on this one. but if you want details, you'll have to tune in yourself. watch out. shit's addictive.

-finn