Some People Without Brains do an Awful Lot of Talking, Don't They?

So, we've been in the new apartment 3 weeks now. Mikey seems to have it all together, but I'm still not totally unpacked (though I did finally get my curtains up after last week's Ikea trip), but with a new coffee maker, microwave and bed... it's all slowly coming together!

In the midst of organizing, Mikey and I took time to catch up with those boyz from The Broken Hearts Club, the first time either of us had seen the movie since moving here some months ago. Written by the creator of Everwood, with it's stellar cast (including Kerr Smith, Mary McCormack, Jennifer Coolidge and Zach Braff - who knew?), Broken Hearts is that rare gay movie that makes you feel good to be gay! No super depressing storylines, lots of cute people, lots of humor, lots of stuff that rings true, and on top of it all a pretty happy ending! One of my favourite exchanges involves the gym naming of "Idaho Guy," something Carleton, Kentio and I did a fair bit of back in the day at Results:

Dennis: Why do you call him Idaho Guy?
Patrick: I don't know. He just kind of... looks like he's from Idaho. It's not one of our better ones.

As we're trying to figure out where, or even if, any of the scenes were filmed around here, we also discuss which character we're most like. When I first saw the movie I thought, or wanted to be Timothy Olyphant's Dennis. Upon rewatching however, Dennis is just too precious, too uptight and too sanctimonious. I think I'm much more Benji (without the over dosing). Mikey figures he's Patrick, whose self-defeating angst is summed up with the line:

Patrick: All of the men in LA are a bunch of 10's looking for an 11. On a good night, and if the other guy's drunk enough... I'm a 6.

It is true, there are many 11s here. One thought however, if Mikey does think of himself as a 6, then does that make me a sad and lowly 5.5? I bloody well hope not, I was thinking at least a 7.4!

But back to Broken Hearts, a great, way underrated gay movie, with more appropriate social significance than Brokeback Mountain should ever have!

Lastly, you may have picked up on my random Wizard of Oz references of late? Am I some sort of closeted Judy Garland fan? Do I have a Flying Monkey or Tin Man fetish? Has my love of the critically scorned Return to Oz finally warped my mind? No, unfortunately none of the above, simply think of these recent posts as odes in my "Over the Rainbow" trilogy (click here for parts 1 and 2) .

There's no place like home!

Are My Dreams in the Cards?

Last week the florists from LA Premiere, some of Beverly Hills top floral arrangers, took my boss and I out to dinner and a show, at White Lotus in Hollywood. First and foremost, I know this contradicts my edict of not socializing with bosses, but being new to a city, and in an industry, where it's all about "Who -You-Know" I thought it best to partake in a cocktail or two. And I'm glad I did. It was a fun night out, good company, good food (I had the pork) and a very impressive cirque de soleil-esq. cabaret act by the performance group Dreamland.

Watching the performances was certainly one of those "only-in-LA" experience. Hot scantily clad bodies writhing on ropes, entwined in silks, balancing on hoops and culminating with the performers simulating sexual acts on stage while engulfed in plumes of smoke. My favourite was Eric, the lint collecting geeky waiter who upon climbing on his swing starts shedding his clothes to reveal a most spectacular physique!

To make the circus theme complete, earlier in the night our table was visited by the gypsy fortune teller who proceeded to read my cards. The three I picked were The Two of Cups (for my recent past), Judgment (my present), and The Queen of Cups (my immediate future). According to the gypsy I've gone through a great upheaval and now have to relinquish the past. I should have courage in my own convictions, and only then can I let my heart lead the way to my "calling". It's time to be "inspired".

Very, very interesting!

Mike Ergas - The Email

Remember back on New Year's when I didn't have the balls to go up and chat with big Mike Ergas, well in the wake of that, and suffering a little from the Tuesday Blues, I wrote Mike a very geeky fan email (which thankfully I don't have a copy of). Now Mike is pretty much my #1 favourite bodybuilder and hugely inspirational, so when I received this yesterday:

"Hi Matt,

Thanks so much for the email. It is very nice to hear from you. Also thanks for the nice words. So the next time you see me please come up and say hi.

Anyway, I hope the New Year is treating you well!

Take care,

Mike"

I was bloody flawed. Yes, it doesn't say a whole lot, but I read a whole lot into it!

Yes, I really might love him!!!

CELEBFLASH: Crunch Edition

Living right behind Crunch, it'd be easy to stop on by for a quick workout, especially since the Ohio guy who signed up Mikey gave me a bunch of free passes. So last Sunday, in order to check out the gym, I offered to help Mikey with his chest workout. On a lazy Sunday afternoon, I didn't expect much of anything, but as always, you never know who you'll stumble across in LA!

Find The Flaw

When I see a fitness model in the flesh, I'm always blown away by their "beauty". With their chiseled abs and bulging biceps, these are some of the best looking men around, having graced the covers of such homo-rotica as Men's Workout and Exercise For Men Only. I admit it, I have a hard time not starring, but, in not been able to take my eyes of their perfect physiques, one begins to notice flaws!

Shock! Horror! Yes, these guys aren't perfect. Their skin is bad, their hair receding, or as in the case of recent sighting Greg Plitt, they have absolutely no ass! No ass and no legs... He looks disproportionate with his perfectly-huge arms and chest dwarfing his non-existent ass and thighs. This realisation, first coined by another Kevin (Mike's buddy in DC), is known as "Find The Flaw," and will become my new favourite gym game. No longer will I been intimidated by apparent perfection... I will Find The Flaw!!!

Boy Drops Weights

So, we're working out next to this kid doing bench presses. He looks familiar. I'm sure he's some reality show contestant from Boy Meets Boy, or something of that ilk. He's a little guy, he's benching 135lbs, then all of a sudden CRASH! and he's dropped his weights. One of the 45s has fallen off the bar and he's floundering. We've all had it happen, it's embarrassing, you try and pretend it never happened, but still someone sniggers. Mike and I were the sniggerers. And right or wrong we continued to chortle at this D-Lister, as well as the other beautiful people we'd found flaws in, throughout the rest of our workout.

Cut to: Monday night and The Golden Globes. The nominations for Best Actor in a TV Mini-Series or Movie are being read out, and Mike and I are stunned into momentary silence... then bust out laughing. The kid we'd seen drops his weights... the skinny kid with bad skin... the one with the perpetual scowl we'd laughed at... none other than Jonathan Rhys-Meyers... the cute guy from Bend It Like Beckham... and he goes on and wins the Globe!

"Thank you to all those who worked with me on Elvis , and to those guys who laughed at me at the gym - F**K You!"

CELEBFLASH: They're All Golden!

Is it really a CelebFlash when you come across these people at an organized event? Is the sighting really as blog-worthy as, say, meeting Sue Ellen at The Farm? I mean, I don't think I'd blog about a celeb I saw in a play, unless the play was worth blogging!

But I suppose, with such a plethora of them last night, I should at least give you the rundown:

Ron Howard, Brian Grazer, Eric Bana, Adrien Brody, Michelle Yeoh, Paul Giamatti, Sean Hayes (again), Donald Sutherland, Michelle Williams, Dr. Perry Cox, Russlle Crowe, Jason Lee, Ang Lee, Mischa Barton, and surprise of the night, Matt Dillon, who looked (has he had some work done?) STUNNING!

Oh! And did I forget to mention Heath AND Jake!!!

Both were gorgeous. Heath was much bigger and more imposing that I thought he'd be. Jake, surprisingly slight, though I did sadly have to squeeze passed him, so, unfortunately, I did get to touch. Though he is skinnier than I'd hoped, I might still love him!

My most blog-worthy part of the night was chit-chatting with this British lady, who just happened to be Keira Knightly's mum. We discussed Keira transformation in to plastic, how she'd already had one action figure made from her stint in Star Wars (which her mum had told her she wouldn't like filming - and she didn't, it was all blue screen), and how she's got another one on the way from Pirates of the Caribbean. I'm always a hit with the mums!!!

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

In a town full of diners, burger joints and hole-in-the-wall eateries... nothing's better than a good hearty breakfast. And while The Firehouse in Venice may still have the best views in town, I've found that nothing so far beats The Griddle.

Sure there are some super trendy breakfast places, like Toast and Doughboys, and others which serve up your good ol’ comforting greasy platefuls, like Mel's and IHOP. But The Griddle... Ah! The Griddle: it's a trendy hole-in-the-wall; frequented by celebs; staffed by butt-slapping Prada-Grunge waif-like hotties (think Ashton); the pancakes alone will send you into a blissful food coma; plus now it's just one quick hop, skip and a jump across the way. I love it!!!

Sure, even by 9:30am there's a line, but the crowd, like the staff, is cute (but not too cute). A seat at the low U-shaped bar is a great alternative to waiting for a table. And (CELEBFLASH) Steve Sanders is always there! You know, Steve, 90210, Ian Ziering, the cartoon voice-over king, looking much buffer than he ever did on TV.

But lets get back to the pancakes, with a dozen or so varieties, and stacks so big you should always order to share, it's gonna take a while to try them all. My favourite so far, the Yellow Brick Road - swirls of caramel and walnuts, topped with more caramel-flavoured cream. Heaven! The scrambles, sausage, dark French-Pressed Coffee, even the egg whites, are all well worth the wait!

"Bentley, I've A Feeling We're Not In WeHo Anymore"

"Oh, but we are my dad, we are... Just."

But was Bentley right? We were moving to a new apartment building at the very edge of the WeHo/Los Angeles border. After years of living in the centers of gaydom (Dupont Circle and then West Hollywood), would I be outcast, left to get fat, ugly and... well, less gay.

I began to get a little concerned when I realised we were on the cusp. A Google Map search of the new address came up as "Los Angeles." WeHo's Preferential Parking Districts map was of no use. The sweat started to pour from my brow. Who would know? Who could I call? So, trembling, I went directly to the source and dialed the city hotline.

"Is 1427 North Laurel in West Hollywood?"

I could barely the get the words out. There was silence. In the background I could hear the operator clicking away, searching (in vain I was sure) for the address.

"Sir..."

I inhaled. Holding my breath and clenching my buttocks, I was ready for the bad news.

"It is West Hollywood!"

With joyous exoberation I punched the air. Slamming down the phone I emailed Mike: It is West Hollywood! It is West Hollywood! It's OK! It's OK!

My Bentley was right! Just! Had the new building been just one building north, I would now be residing in Los Angeles and they would have taken away my gay card. Oh, how I would slept better that night!

[By the way, yes, my dog and I do talk to one another. We have long philosophical discussions on the best bones, places to pee, and the art of hunting squirrels. And for an eleven-month old you should hear the dirty words that come out of his little mouth. Appalling!]

January 6th - Twelfth Night

One of the saddest sights of the year is a discarded Christmas Tree bundled up and ready for the garbage men the day after Christmas. Do "you people" not know that Christmas actually lasts for 12 days?

You've all heard the song yes?

"On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me:
A partridge in a pear tree"

And so forth and so on. Well, back in England we still observe these twelve days... sort of. All our Christmas TV programming airs in these 2 weeks after Christmas, and we keep our decorations up until Twelfth Night (it's bad luck to keep them up any longer - though there was that one year that Richard & Judy got their dates all confused - and my were their viewers upset!).

In the olden days, these 12 days were a holiday from work, a time to party, the Yule Log would burn, and people would feast on Twelfth Night Cake (which has slowly morphed over the years into Christmas Cake, a rich spicy fruit filled cake, decorated with marzipan and white icing; a cake that no one eats). Nowadays, many people still take time off, mainly to attend the New Year sales and finish up all that goddam turkey (as in turkey risotto, pie, soup, loaf, etc.). But at least Christmas isn't over as soon as the clock strikes midnight!

CELEBFLASH: New Year's Eve Edition

The new job is keeping me from the celebs, but a night at out The Hollywood Palladium to ring in 2006 was just the thing the doctor ordered for a few good sightings:

Remember My So Called Life? The short-lived, but critically acclaimed, '94-'95 series from Marshall Herskovitz and Edward Zwick, the creators of thirtysomething. Remember Supernova, that really awful sci-fi movie with the really cute Mr. Jennie Garth as the baddie. Who connects the two? Wilson Cruz. Everyone's favourite mid-90s gay boy, in one of the few realistic portrayals of a teen coming to terms with his own sexuality. And unfortunately we all still remember him for this!

So a while back, soon after I started the blog, Matt from Cosmic Blast asked me to be on the look out for Colt man Chris Wide. Now I said I would, but at the time I really had no clue who he was talking about. Somehow however just recently I actually came across a picture of Chris, and OMG!, unbeknownst to little me I'd been working out right next to (and lusting after) him for months. When I saw him on NYE I got a friend to confirm that that was actually him (which it was). His pictures really don't do him justice, he is much more handsome in person and he truly has the greatest ass ever!

Lastly we have, again, and for the umpteenth time, Mike Ergas - who I might just be in love with. The guy is HUGE! He's only a tad taller than me at 5'6", but he must be close to 230lbs if not more (his off season high is 260lbs). What most impresses me about Mike however is his attitude and professionalism. Although he totally got screwed at the 2005 Nationals, he simply chalks it up as just another experience. The guy is a total class act!

Now I had a couple of opportunities to go up, introduce myself, proclaim myself a huge fan, and wotnot, but being a stupid wuss, I chicken out. Damn me, I'm supposed to be being more proactive in 2006. Not a good way to start!

[To see Mike posing at a massive post-nationals 220lbs click here]