Sunday, November 27, 2005

i found compromise bar its wonderland 1101 kenyon

...such was the contents of a text message I got about a year ago that changed my life.

Myself and a lady friend had been getting frustrated. We just needed a bar where I wouldn't be her fag but she wouldn't be my hag. There just aren't a lot of places in DC where a straight woman and a gay man, neither of whom with any baggage pre-empting it, who just like to hang out and drink together, might both get lucky. If you're a lady who doesn't want to get lucky, you can go with your boys to a gay bar, but even then you'll probably cock block him. And forget it if you're a gay guy who doesn't want to get laid and just wants to accompany your lady to a straight pickup bar. If you can get by in a straight bar, you're enough to cock block her. Don't even get me started on the trouble of finding a place where you could both actually get lucky.

This was our goal: finding The Compromise Bar. And one night, last fall, she found it.

Now, back in the day, Wonderland was known as an underground lesbian hangout. Which is very cool. People in the neighborhood were low-key, and ladies who wanted to meet in a non-forced atmosphere could meet up at Wonderland. And as the neighborhood got more diverse (yes, it's gentrifying, but not nearly as obnoxiously as, say, U Street) - Wonderland got more diverse.

Honestly, if you're like me and you dreamed up a magical Compromise Bar - let's say you never imagined that it could exist - here's what your pipe dream might look like:

-the crowd is totally mixed on sex, sexual orientation, race/ethnicity, income, educational level

-however, everyone is 21-30, with people over 30 being extremely cool and young-at-heart

-they serve Guinness for $6 AND PBR for $3

-one floor is nonsmoking and one floor is smoking

-restrooms are unisex but not single-stall

-you can dress up OR down and fit in

-music is hip and segues smoothly between genres, from Rap to Punk to Ska to Southern Rock to New Wave

-full of people but not so packed you can't breathe

-no attitude; people are there to have fun

-no assumptions; people will strike up a conversation with anyone but won't push themselves on you

-no assumptions; people of any sex, race, sexuality will talk to you and not assume that you do OR don't want them

-most of the patrons live within 5 blocks, or came with friends who did, so you can go to afterparties or have an easy walk home/easy walk-of-shame in the morning

"Ha!" you'd say. "They'd never make a bar like that!" Well, ha ha to you. They made one, and I live a block and a half away from it. And it's awesome. I can go with my ladies and dance with them, and every type of person imaginable will still hit on us both. And that's exactly the kind of bar that I want to go to.

Assemble any group you want, and go to Wonderland, and you will get along just fine. And my GOD, the coolness level of a bar where anyone will hit on you but all of them will take "no" without the slightest attitude! There's something a little swingerish/hippie-ish about a place like that, but with a modern flavor. A place for the open-minded, free at heart types. And the yuppies think that hipsters are snobs. If they only knew the beauty of The 'Heights.

How Did You Get That?

Last night I came home from my 72-hour barnstorming tour of the homes of my friends' parents in the NY-NJ region. And as we all move through our twenties, more and moore of our parents are cleaning out their attics and getting ready to move to warmer, sunnier climes. Myself being a mooch, I like to help myself to things that are being thrown out.

I got home around 11 PM and started emptying out the backseat of my Corolla, one item at a time, and bringing it into the house in front of the roomies as if these were perfectly normal things to bring out of one's car after Turkey Day:

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oscillating fan

18" Coca-Cola wall clock

two 30-lb. barbells

snowboard w/bindings

12-cup Gevalia coffeemaker with built-in insulated carafe

---

The production of it all was well-played, but still, I would have liked to have had just a few more things to bring in casually:

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two midgets (one male & one female; male midget must have a handlebar moustache)

8-track player

inflatable sex doll (gender/species open)

pogo stick

Dukakis/Bentsen '88 yard sign

brass hookah

---

It's just hard when you've set the bar so high on past attempts, ya know? Nowhere to go. Quite difficult to keep them laughing.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Hipster Magnetic Poetry

Hey kids!!! Do you want your very own Angel Headed Hipster Magnetic Poetry Set? It's awesome!

All you need are a computer printer, a glue stick, a pair of scissors, and some crappy flimsy advertisement magnets. You can find these on your freezer or just steal them from other people's freezers.

Print out this blog post, glue it to some crappy magnets, and cut out all the phrases! With just this small set of words and phrases, you'll be able to construct your very own blog on the Frigidaire(TM) that looks just like everything I've ever written or will ever write! Knock yourselves out!
____________

by the time the clock hit 3 AM

saying stupid random shit

40% urban cowboy

calling people fags and cunts in a literary context

the hating of all things anal-retentive

lame-ass motherfuckers

total douchebag

(which was AWE-some, by the way)

obviously I'm a little bitter about

Midwest Farm Boy

my personal lifelong journey towards trying to be less fucked-in-the-head

or something equally vapid

straight out of Homophobia, U.S.A.

all kinds of shit that tells you what's wrong with them deep down inside

I've been procrasturbating

it's one thing to try to get people to assume that you're heterosexual

"scuzzy meth-dealing wife beater"

stupid "bisexual" whore

you act like a fucking retard

practically offer to suck your dick right then and there

between the thousands of men they fuck

dancing to '80s music at 1:30 AM for its cultural value

the offensive, nasty, rotten things inside my head

started to stroke off

my huge fucking boner for Brad Pitt

the things that I tend to obsess about

You know I just had to

Under-the-influence

Liaison To Heterostan

which is nice and Zen and all, but

mindless sex with different men every night

My countrytrash alter-ego

my brother and I played "doctor" with the neighbor boy

I got hammered and busted some moves on the dance floor

then we all had oral sex

Washington Post crossword

what do you put in your mouth

my triple-booked Saturday

excluding the male genitalia

to grossly paraphrase Sigmund Freud

sold into prostitution and be forced to suck Cantonese Cock With Special Sauce

Cunty McFaggotron

my issue of needing to be perceived as masculine

that's what people who didn't have fucked-up childhoods do

plunging my rod into

taking body shots of Jim Beam

Queen Fagorama starts bitching

ADHD meds

losing an amateur stripping contest

barely-legal 18-year-old hetero guy

meth-head trucker trash

the Hook-Up-Or-Leave hour

hot man-on-man action

oral sex

I was offended on behalf of people

I'd like to punch her in the ovaries

like a pigeon in a 1950s psychology experiment

Thomas Jefferson tried that one and it didn't work well that time either

although I'd only had 1.5 martinis

Evil Racist White Man

bored and/or sadistic

my anger and resentment

(e.g. bragging about beaver hunting)

the straights

the hets

even if all bisexual women were crazy

the heteros

Gross/Hot

the prime time to get laid is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights

why you need a six-pack if you want to have sex

think that they're actually going to get to fuck

after ordering the first round of drinks

anyone who's going to go home with you at 3 AM on a weeknight

It's a scientific fact.

some sort of a gender-power sort of thing

it's not a politically correct thing to say, but it's true.

smoking weed in the bathroom of a bar

hey, I'm just saying

Friday, November 18, 2005

I Don't Feel A Strong Sense Of Community With These People

Let's talk about the lame-ass academics in my field. Every conference I've ever gone to, I've felt like I was on Jupiter. These people have no social skills. They don't know how to dress so they wear Banana Republic anything and look like douchebags. You can't have a conversation with them because they are weird. They go to their little conferences and put up their little posters and they make their graduate students into little versions of them.

Part of me has always been a little bitter that I have an old, out-of-touch advisor who treats me with benign neglect. It would be nice to have an advisor who actually networked me in right. But guess what. I know people with networking advisors who aren't getting anywhere, and it's not like I don't have better social skills than 95% of the people at these conferences. So I'm not really worried about that. And frankly, I get enough forced socialization from my department's faculty as a whole, that I definitely don't need any more from my advisor. Worse than being ignored (where I get to hang out at coffee shops, lift weights, go shopping during the workday) would be being totally molded into a little version of some pencil-pushing academic turd.

So it's nice to not feel like you're part of a bunch of losers, but it doesn't feel very good to be not part of the group you're in. It's tough either way. I should have been a male model or something, where I'd be sure to fit right in.

Regarding Date Rape, Vol. II

I decided it's more interesting to write follow-ups as new posts instead of going on in the comments.

Miss Monkey brought up some good points in the comments to the date rape post. I knew if I blogged about things other than myself, I might actually get more comments from folks. So let's talk about date rape some more.

It sounds like I was comparing apples and oranges to some extent. Perhaps those who volunteer for campus organizations are doing the important work of educating victims that they are victims, and getting them to come forward. Whereas the prevention side is a different deal. I guess what weirds me out is the amount of time and energy spent on the "recovery" side compared to the amount of time and energy spent on the "prevention" side.

It totally makes sense that helping the victims is crucially important in its own sense - but I guess my point was that we could also use some energy in IDENTIFYING college women with (1) the worst self-esteem; (2) the highest need to please men; and (3) the worst radar for missing sketchiness in men. Because I definitely believe that there are college women at much higher risk of date rape than their peers, and that if we can find them, we can save them BEFORE the crime, instead of trying to rehabilitate them afterwards.

But even that might possibly represent more of a gender difference in energy. Perhaps college women are more likely to see victims and understand the importance of helping real people get better, whereas grad school men are more likely to see statistical future victims and want to implement a system to prevent possible victimization.

Neither focus is wrong. I think the common ground we can all agree on is that we need to decrease date rapes AND help the victims whose crimes we couldn't prevent.

One last thing, though: is it possible that the campus-date-rape-prevention people aren't putting enough responsibility on the rapists? Cuz here's the thing. When I break the law (oral sex on the beach at 4 AM; smoking weed in the bathroom at a bar; driving 72 in a 55), I know I'm breaking the law. I know that I'm a criminal (even if that word has connotations we wouldn't associate with speeding) and I don't need to be educated as to what a crime is. "Gee whiz, officer? Sex in public is illegal? I thought this was oregano in the pipe! I saw "495" on the sign and thought that was the speed limit!"

So, while I understand that maybe the kind of women most likely to be date raped are the women who don't always realize that they've been victimized - do we really need to educate rapist men that they are committing a crime? If a guy, in 2005, after twenty years of date-rape awareness, physically subdues a woman and violates her - does he really not know that what he's doing is wrong? Because filmstrips aren't going to stop me from public sex & drugs. High odds of getting caught might. I'm just saying - maybe we don't need to educate college men any more than we have. Maybe we need to catch them. (Which I do think the rape-prevention women are doing a good job of).

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

An Open Letter To Apple Computer, Inc.

Dear Apple Computer, Inc:

I love iTunes. I think it's the greatest music database software in history. I find the search options insanely useful. Giving me the ability to control the interface by choosing which columns will be displayed, adjusting their width, and re-arranging them, was very kind of you.

I also especially like that I can re-label music by genre, and that AutoFill saves me a ton of time in managing my 13,000-song library, so I can type in "B" and get "Big Band/Swing" filled in automatically.

But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, do you know how SICK I am of getting "New Age" every time I want to enter "New Wave?"

No one who uses iTunes likes New Age. OK, maybe there's one person who owns an Apple and listens to New Age music, but he probably calls it "Rock and/or Roll." Because it's Reverend Lovejoy.

Love,

Hipster

Monday, November 14, 2005

As I Try To Branch Out To Topics Not About Myself...

I have to say it: the rape-prevention people have let their emotions render them stupid.

It's not a politically correct thing to say, but it's true.

Two young, highly intelligent, law- and grad-school bound women that I know are college seniors and volunteer for the campus rape-prevention group. And I think that's excellent. Rape is one of the most cruel, vicious, offensive crimes there is. After murder, rape is the one thing that's against the morality of basically anyone you'd ever want to associate with.

World cultures have also been, for the most part, male-dominated. The vast majority of rape is man-on-woman. (Straight) men have had a millennia-long history of ignoring, accepting, downplaying, and justifying rape. And that's sick.

Most rape is date rape. My college-senior friends cited the statistic of 85%. That sounds about right from an intuitive level.

(Straight) men, in their long history of rape justification, have loved to blame women ("it's what she was wearing"/"it's where she was that got herself raped") or pretend to blame themselves without accepting responsibility ("we are animals"/"it's in our genes"). And these are really idiotic excuses. Imagine if Martha Stewart had gotten up on the stand and said in her sultry alto, "well, I had the inside information, so you know I had to engage in insider trading to save .0000001% of my total wealth. I'm an animal when it comes to money. It's just in my genes." She would have been drawn and quartered, and she wouldn't have her own TV show now. Crime is the fault of the criminal.

But crime is also the responsibility of the victims.

I lock my house. I lock my car. I lock my office. I lock my lab.

I have passwords on my banking/finance accounts that are different than those on my e-mail and friend site accounts. And I've never given out my financial account passwords to parents, boyfriends, or roommates.

For every crime there is - EXCEPT (DATE) RAPE - we tell people to take care of their shit. Women take self-defense classes, carry mace, etc. etc. etc. to avoid being mugged, killed, or stranger-raped. Which is excellent.

But since most rape is date rape, and rape is one of the most heinous AND IRREVERSIBLE crimes there is, shouldn't we tell women to take care of their shit? You'd think we could save a lot of victims from (1) bodily harm, (2) psychological terror, (3) STDs, (4) conception-by-rape, etc. if we told women that there are ways that they can behave to NOT get raped.

But God knows we can't do that! That would be blaming the victim.

So let's keep doing what my otherwise intelligent friends do, and having outdoor spectacles on campus where anyone can walk up and puffy-paint a T-shirt to say TAKE BACK THE NIGHT, or something equally vapid, that won't actually keep women safe from rape. And have more little instructional workshops to tell men that NO MEANS NO! (Which is probably a good idea, but hardly the end of what we are capable of doing to reduce rape).

Can you imagine a world in which we REFUSED to tell auto-theft victims to lock their cars? Or suggest that if you own a decent car, don't park it on the street in a poor and highly populated neighborhood with a high crime rate?

Because that's what we do about rape - because you can't blame the victim! Or even educate her, other than to indoctrinate her into some preachy rhetoric about how women should dress like prostitutes, hang out with skeezy men, go to their dorm rooms at 3 in the morning, make out with them, and DEMAND that they respect their right to not be assaulted. It's the only crime where the victims' rights advocacy groups DON'T apparently believe that you should teach people to protect themselves to avoid the crime.

So if you're actually against rape (and I hope everyone reading this IS), consider actually turning to a young woman you know and sitting her down and talking about rape. We live in a somewhat-unpredictable world, but I'm willing to bet dollars to donuts that there are a lot of things that women who don't get raped are doing to avoid it (including my rape-prevention group friends). And while it's not an excuse for a rapist that the woman was dressed like she wanted it, went to his room alone with him at night after flirting, went to second base, and THEN said no...

Wouldn't you rather NOT get raped? If you could do something to prevent it, wouldn't you do it? If you could avoid being alone with a criminal in a criminal environment, wouldn't you do it?

Apparently, not if it's rape. Just something to think about.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Midwestern Boy Stud Service: A How-To Guide

Are you a man-oriented man living in the DC metro area? Here are some helpful tips to get laid.

Be from the Midwest. There are plenty of southerners and northeasterners here. They seem to have boredom for themselves and dislike for the other. Both groups greatly resent materialistic Californians who visit or move here and complain about everything. But there's one group that everyone seems to fetishize: The Farmboy. Not from a farm? That's A-OK. Just do some lat/trap exercises and build up them shoulder blades. You just have to *look* like you're from a farm. Don't forget to go about 40% urban cowboy in your clothing: people who grew up in Jersey can't tell the difference. Don't tell people that you're from Chicago; say "Illinois" instead. "Madison" is a college town, but "Southeastern Wisconsin" sounds like pretty much the most isolated place on Earth. For some reason, "Minneapolis" sounds like a silo and a couple dozen hogs, so that's a keeper. You may wish to experiment with slightly embellished lies, too. And it doesn't hurt to selectively tell the truth: telling a sales clerk that you've been in the area for 3 years makes you boring. But if you can get away with "I just moved to DC four months ago," followed by "...I'm from Minnesota," by God, he'll bring every item in the store to the dressing room and practically offer to suck your dick right there. Feel free to take him up on the offer, unless you want to play hard to get and fuck his manager next time you are shopping there.

Act stupid. Men want nothing more than to sleep with dumb people. It's a scientific fact. At some point, I actually thought this followed some sort of a gender-power sort of thing: male OR female gays & lesbians, if they're femmier, want smart butches, whereas butches want dumb femmes. This is patently untrue. The need for stupid sexual partners is directly linked to the Y chromosome. Geneticists have looked really carefully at sperm cells with magnifying glasses and proved this unconditionally. Women of all types want partners with brains, and men of all types want to have sex with rocks. This is one explanation for why you need a six-pack if you want to have sex with a man: they will get distracted by it and think that they're actually going to get fuck a sedimental formation. Go with this. One way to help further this progression is to dress in camouflage at a bar: yank a bush out of the planters on the way in, and after ordering your first drink, tuck your shirt into the back of your jeans like a tail, and carry the bush in front of your face. Wearing bluejeans with a wash that looks like a blue river can aid in the decoy process and create a "nature scene" that drives men crazy. In the event that a man realizes you are actually a person, it's still OK. You don't have to lie about your education or your job; just ACT dumb. It always works. Just say unquestioningly, "Oh, I'm a lawyer" or "I went to Princeton" or whatever. DON'T pretend to be coy about it!; this will backfire. If you say "I went to law school in Boston... at a place called Harvard" - THAT reeks of smugness. But you can say that you just got your M.D. from Georgetown, as long as you act like a fucking retard. This is the crucial part.

Start drinking on weeknights. If you need to sleep all day on Saturday and Sunday, and act like a nun when you go out, that's OK. You're not going to get laid on the weekend! So take being hungover at work like a man. It'll make you more chill anyway. The prime time to get laid is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights, because that's when all the retail-employee/grad-student/journalist/other alcoholic professions go out and get hammered. People who drink on the weekends are far too responsible to go home with anyone. If you want to get some action, you have to go out on weekdays when there's little-to-no chance that people are dancing to '80s music at 1:30 AM for its cultural value.

Do not have erectile difficulties. Anyone who's going to go home with you at 3 AM on a weeknight will probably need you to have an erection for the better part of several hours. Do not underestimate this. Masturbation can occur Friday night through Sunday morning; this is the time when you are allowed to go to bars for social value, with your friends who would criticize your healthy sex life anyway. But save the blood for the middle of the week. Get your iron and don't smoke.

Deny all of this, and don't tell anyone it's your plan. Unless you publish the most self-effacing blog ever and find it much funnier to admit your bullshit than pretend you have no idea and you're a nice dumb kid from the farm.