Manhattan Offender

Daily Motion can lick my Box

If you tuned in yesterday, there was, for the majority of the day, a video in the previous post marked as "explicit" by the site Daily Motion.  After requesting this flag be removed by Daily Motion, the following was received in reply:

Hi,
Now everybody can watch your vidéo (for your information, the tag "gay"
has "autoexplicited" your vidéo) just take care when choosing your tags
next time...
Regards,
Mathieu

Well, Daily Motion can take their autoexplication of gay and upload it.  Being gay does not automatically mean explicit.  Even the trampiest of us have moments that are quite ambiguous, confused, implicit, indirect, obscure, unclear, vague and whatever other antonyms fo explicit you can conjure.

So now, it's Motion Box for me.  The upload times are faster and it actually has cool features I've not seen elsewhere.  The viewer is allowed not only to scroll along, but to actually remix as well.  (And as my video editing skills are negligible, that may be well advised.) 

So begins the season: a look inside the Belvedere Guest House (for men)

Almost invariably, people will tell you that the Belvedere is a dump.  The faux painting, the peeling paint, and pervy cohabitants are all mentioned.  There remains though an allure to the place.  Sitting palatially on the east end of Cherry Grove, the Belvedere is iconic in status.  As it is in it's 75th year now, I was determined to stay there, if but for a night.

This weekend presented a perfect opportunity, as a house and housemates needed to be checked out, a deposit made, and a few other errands needed to be done.  With less than perfect weather in the forecast, the call was made for reservations.  My only requirement?  That I take a "luxury" room, and that I get a discount.

My room, right on the water was quite nice, with an iPod alarm clock, flat-screen (13") television, full bath and kitchenette.  The staff was invariably friendly and helpful (and cute). 

That being said, there are parts in disrepair and less than perfect.  Further, as I was not in the more commonly taken economy or standard rooms, there were no issues that come along with a shared bath.

The video above, which admittedly isn't great, gives you a general idea of the place.  Sound was removed as it was pretty windy the whole time.

I'll have video later in the week of the Mr. Fire Island Leather contest, the NEW Pavilion, a walk through The Meatrack and a few other tidbits.

Time goes by. So slowly.

Emailed to me from Chris, and as seen here.

Past, Over: Washington Square Park

So, you see that Washington Square Park in the title, and you are all, "Got it.  You used to able to buy weed there, but now it's all gentrified.  Verily easy."  (Granted, I threw the "verily" part in there.)  With that assumption you are correct, as that was mine as well.  Everybody likes an easy hit occasionally.

Which was my exact thought when I entered the park from MacDougal and West Fourth a month or so back.  Then things went awry.  Between my entry point and the fountain not once did I hear that gruffy medley, "Coke?  Smoke?"  Not once, but five times.  This story, pre-written in my head was shattered.  Not only were the dealers out in the park, but they were out in full force and approaching me relentlessly.

My only reason for entering the park was to take a few snaps of the usual offenders (todlers, strollers, et al), but instead something completely new entered the mind.  For the time, writing about the park was abandoned.  Until today.

Sybil

Introducing Sybil.  I am now 100% clichéd.

BTW LOL ANTM

Yes, it's been on forever, and, yes, it's become self-aware and self-mocking, and yes, it's faggy as all hell.  But you have to watch the season finale of America's Next Top Model.  Just to keep Tyra Banks busy.  Because the world does not need a Tyra roaming around with time on her hands.

Looking to catch up on the past season?  The always useful recaps at fourfour never fail to edutain.  And over at LOLgay, the entire day is dedicated to Tyra's Tokens, Jay Manuel and J Alexander, with a little Nigel, Tyra, and Benny Medina thrown in for good measure.

Sidethought: 
    America's Next Top Model, abbreviated, is ANTM.
    ANTM, enunciated, is "Auntie Em".
    Is Tyra the new Judy?

Wonder Woman Wednesday: Warrior dieting

It's now minutes from "the season", and, in no uncertain terms, the body-image is just so-so.  A South-Beach style crash is in process and it always works, but this may be a chubby summer.

Which is why the adjoining image by Carla Speed McNeil is so awesome.  Think about it.  Can you imagine our girl Wonder Woman having a weight issue?  Fretting about her weight?  Pinching at her side?  Jogging that extra mile to "feel the burn"?

Nah.  Princess Diana is living the warrior lifestyle.  And girlfriend is a vegetarian.

Warrior lifestyle?  Means waking up at the crack of dawn on your mud-cot and doing calisthenics with your gal-warrior-pals.  Having some fruits and cheeses.  Weapons and combat training for a couple hours.  Maybe some yogurt and vegetables.  Then staving off the daemonic hordes of Darkseid for five or six hours before getting back to bed.

And although the image of Wonder Woman downing a side of deer makes sense at first, when you consider that she can talk to animals, that image sort of fades.  "Oh hai!  I eated ur couzin.  Srry!"  (This is assuming that animals all talk like LOLcats of course.)

Maybe she could write a diet book?  Do an exercise video?

Like, spring?

One of the victims of my recent ailments has been the apartment.  My little abode is a little mess, so I did the logical thing:  placed a craigslist ad for a helper.

Unfortunately, all the responses sort of missed the mark, from the overly chummy ("Meeting more people in the neighborhood is always great.") to the overly scary ("I am a straight guy, and I do not play games.")  Left to my own devices, a concise plan was made to hit the kitchen.  Surfaces, floors, windows (inside and out), nooks, crannies, refrigerator.

With this completed, a self-treat was in order.  Feeling people-deprived, the plan was to walk down the piers, then up Christopher, have one beer, go to the Eagle, eat one burger, have one beer and return home.   Among the three locales, there were bound to be known quantities.  This theory held as true:The following were seen (in order of appearance): 
    Starting at the Dugout:  Dustin, Bryce, Neil, Nello, Tom, Dan, Scott, Ed, Paul, Joe, Peter
    Then after a ride to the Eagle with three of the above:  The majority of the above plus Paul, Vasco, Eric, Alex, Tony, Chris.
Yes, an incredibly dull listing of generic male names and not my usual style. 

The point of this scattershot post being that after a too-long hibernation, the city is back.  Or, as the most common greeting was "I haven't seen you in forever," maybe I am.  Or maybe it is a bit of both.

Quoteable: Linda Stein

"The 80's was so full of nightlife; no one went to the gym ... Life has changed completely."

- Linda Stein, former manager of the Ramones and current real estate broker to "the stars", as interviewed in the NY Observer

Delicious ambiguity.

The diagnosis has come in and it is certain.  "Mr. Townsend, I'm afraid to tell you, you are mortal."  It is suddenly apparent that there is no chance of my making it to see the 22nd century.  I'm dying.  But in the sense that you are too.

Here's the deal.  Since the beginning of March, I've had a 'mystery ailment' composed mostly of recurrent staph infections around the armpit, general fatigue, and a huge quantity of ANA antibodies coursing through the blood.  Over fifteen vials of blood have been filled.  An echo-cardiogram, abdominal sonagram, and chest x-rays have been executed.  Over $200 laid out in doctor visit and pharmaceutical co-pays spent.   My shirt removed over twenty times for five different people, none of whom were alluring.

For the most part this has been kept close to the vest.  There is no conversation starter lower than "How are you feeling?" and such morbid conversation is loathsome.  There has been the necessary revelations to friends whose birthday parties have been missed and others.  Sometimes the information was spread without my knowledge leading to hugs from people previously unmolested.  Sometimes the word came blurted out in response to a tangential comment.

So what is it?  Still unknown, but the following are things that have been tested and that it is not:

• AIDS
• Syphilis
• Anemia
• MRSA (which was pursued for a week)
• Lupus (which was pursued for about a month)
• Lung cancer
• Gall bladder dysfunction
• Spleen ailment
• Kidney problem
• Obesity (WTF!)

From all the work done it is know known that I have incredibly perfect blood pressure, cholesterol, white blood cell counts, spleen function, gall bladder function.  Despite years of smoking (which ceased in January, back when I was healthy), there is no indication of lung cancer or any other type of cancer.  Despite diabetes on both sides of my family, there is no indication thereof.  Or heart disease.  Or any of the other stuff that kills the men on my father's side at the age of sixty.

Which leaves mostly with a massive case of annoyance.  Which, through some miracle of programmatic thinking leads me to gratitude as things could be so much worse.  I have insurance.  My doctor, albeit a tad clueless, is genuinely concerned.  The people in my life are pretty awesome.  Death isn't at my door (today).  My life is filled with a newly delicious ambiguity.

Although slightly changed by this experience, it is unlike the slight change that anything endured for two months.  Current conditions are as follows:

• The new site launched. 
• I'm still with Gawker. 
• There may be an MSM thing in the works. 
• I'll be on a stage sometime in June.

And there's more, but this post is too long already.  And I'll talk more about the cat (still unnamed) once she gets better at posing for the camera.

Footnote the first:  The above post title is from the under-appreciated Gilda Radner. 
Footnote the second:  Sincere thanks to those who wrote inquiring about my taking a break from MO.  Your concern humbles me.