“Mortified” is a comic excavation of teen angst artifacts (journals, letters, lyrics, home movies, and more) as shared by their original authors before total strangers. I’ll be reading from my high school journal about looking for love, sex, or something. (The same piece is in Mortified’s second book, “Love is a Battlefield.“) Get tickets now, Mortified always sells out.

WHEN: Thursday and Friday, February 12 -13.  TIME: 8:00 PM VENUE: Make-Out Room ADDRESS: 3225 22nd St, San Fran CA 94110 COST: $10 adv; $12 door Get tickets online at: GetMortified.com

So last month the most romantic thing in the world happened to me. I’d gone to the World of Wonder Christmas Rollerskating party at the Moonlight Rollerway dressed in appropriate winter wonderland gear and was skating around by myself. Drag queens were in abundance. RuPaul was the DJ. And I saw this cutie leaning over the edge so I smacked him on the ass as I rolled by. A few revolutions later and this cutie skates by me and our eyes lock and he just grabs my hand without a word and then we’re skating and holding hands like it’s nothing at all and THAT’S CRAZY isn’t it? Did he know I was the ass smacker? (Later I learned, no.)

We form a train with other skaters, take turns swinging each other out on the turns. THEN RUPAUL PUTS ON XANADU, one of my most favorite songs EVER and the BEST song to skate to IN THE UNIVERSE! So the cutie and I who haven’t said a word between us other than “whoa!” and “wheee!” grab hands AND SKATE TOGETHER TO XANADU IN A CINEMATIC MOMENT OF EXQUISITE GAYNESS! We haven’t reached the first chorus and I’m thinking DREAMS DO COME TRUE when another skater zooms by the cutie causing him to release my hand as he falls forward. I fall backwards and land on my hand and elbow. (Later I’d be told I hadn’t learned how to fall. Metaphoric AND true.)

I get off the ice, I mean rollerskating rink, and the cutie rushes over and sits with me while I go into shock and nearly vomit. He gets me a bag of ice from somewhere and a couple pills. I tell him he doesn’t have to drug me to have his way with me. And I press the ice to my wrist which I’m holding on top of my head to keep the swelling down. I tell him I think he should kiss me and he does, and does, and undoes my shirt buttons, and people are giving us some extra room and I say ok you need to stop cause you’re causing swelling somewhere else now. I start shivering and I ask him if he could go get my hat and scarf that I tossed on a bench on the other side of the rink. He goes and gets them AND THEN PUTS THEM ON AND GOES BACK TO ROLLERSKATING, which was not how that was supposed to go.

The next morning x-rays showed my wrist was not broken but severely sprained. Over a month later my elbow still hurts enough I scheduled an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon. But I did get the guy’s name, Matt Alber. He’s a singer and here he is performing his mega romantic song “End of the World” in his MEGA ROMANTIC video that’s been misting eyes of grown gay men since it was released a few days ago.

This was my first of a series of music video jobs where I was a one man art department. Not that there was much to on this aside from the velvet curtain, renting some lamps you never see, and aiming a fan at the stripper girls that got cut from the final edit because MTv said it was no longer acceptable to feature girls dancing on poles. (Side note: The girl, unaware of my presence lying on the floor aiming the fan at her, kicked her chair off the stage which flew legs-first towards me shattering the fan sending the blades flying across the set and everyone thought I’d been horribly injured.) 

Also the fight you see with the guys was real; this was filmed at Three of Clubs in Hollywood; and the fire was my thing and here’s how you do it: Spray-paint a sheet of plywood flat black and let dry. Squirt it with charcoal lighter fluid (it burns the right speed), flip it over onto two sawhorses and light the fluid on the underside. Film the whole thing by shooting into a mirror placed at an angle under the plywood. This lets you keep the camera a safe distance from the fire. Just watch for drips onto the mirror. After doing this a few times the board will start to burn so you have to watch that. And let it cool before reapplying lighter fluid. When the video ran on Beavis and Butthead they were mostly interested in the fire.

A paper-mache jack-o-lantern on a stack of vintage Playboys. Could there be a more perfect work of art? Maybe if glitter was involved.

And WOWOWOW Here’s a painting by Pearl Hsiung, one of my new favorite artists. I’ve pulled a few others from her site below.

Then a new friend and myself went to a few openings in Culver City where more fabulousness happened. First, take in the warning posted at the entrance to Kim Light Gallery:

Genius.

Inside I was charmed in all caps by the display of Penelope Gottlieb’s drawings of houses. Can we discuss the aesthetic delights of a fake fireplace?

BUT THEN, OMG, check out the cuteness overload that is Yoshitomo Nara’s installation at Blum & Poe:

And that’s not me in the photo, it’s the lovely artist Norm Korpi.

Then later, with a different friend, I checked out the West Hollywood Gay Spook House, I mean Jack’s – which is a gay sex club that used to be called the Zone. It’s referred to as a “stand up” sex club which confused me. (Is there a “sitting,” “reclining,” or “lying down” sex club?) I actually thought it meant the place was super small and cramped so everyone had to stand like in the bars in Tokyo. It was explained to me that “stand-up” was to distinguish it from a bath house. Which still makes no sense to me because no one calls a bath house a sex club. Whatever.

The experience was NO DIFFERENT from visiting your local Halloween spook house except this had dance music, free condoms and lube.  This is not a picture from inside but this is exactly the feel. (But with signs that said things like, “Tired of dirty heads? HEAD CLEANER available at the front desk.”) I highly recommend a visit just to see the Eshcer-like, Jeff Stryker-80’s-porn-industrial-dream-sequence-inspired walk-thru installation that is Jack’s. Actually, I’m seriously considering calling the owners to see if I can work with them on some redesigns. Blacklights and flourescent paints were made for places like this.

Found at http://www.cloudform.com

It started with just rubbing the butt but he liked it more the harder I got so now I just smack his but like I’m violently playing bongos and he goes into orgasmic fits and falls off my lap. We do this like 3 times a day. 

Waaaaayyy back in October 2007, my friend asked me if I’d be his one man art dept. for a music video shoot for a reality/game show on VH1 called “Shoot to Kill.” The show was two teams compete by remaking their version of a classic 80’s music video. You’re allowed limited crew, two days to shoot, and $500. That’s it. This was one of my set sketches for our “Walk Like an Egyptian” set.

The show was not a pilot, they shot six episodes and we were told the show would air in March of ‘08. Then August ‘08. Keep in mind we got these updates by running into one of the TWELVE executive producers at various restaurants and asking them what the deal was.

It’s almost February ‘09 now and there’s nothing to be found online about the show. Calls to VH1 and the production company go nowhere so I’m guessing it went to TV limbo. Which is sad ’cause there was a great interview where I’m referred to as lieutenant Sparkle, and argue with the director about the amount of gold and gayness in ancient Egypt.

These are things people actually leave as comments on my site. All comments go in quarantine before approval. These were not approved, or understood:

Regarding this post on a pic of Batman kissing Robin, jose angel said “My love vis batman o laves gay.” WTF. Christian Nah said, “you gis kis in lips and you are Bos.”

Regarding this post on Hello Kitty wine, kirsty said “wine hey hello kitty !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COOL I LOVE HER NOT BUBLLE” .

Nick thinks he’s a young urban youth or something and had this to say about some colorful Nikes (read this aloud for full impact), “dude thoses shoes r fly man i got a get a pair of thoses how can i get some man they r hot dude can i order some man they r hot catch ya boy.” And Courtney said, “yo des sneakers go hard dem shits is dumb nice im feelin all 3 of dem”

Those shoes are a popular one with the kids – or K1Dz I should say. Farrahfaye (xOFilipinaChicOx@Yahoo.com) said:

“YOOOOOOOO!!!!!

WHERE CAN i GET A PAiR?
DEY BE HOT FOR MY SWEET SiXTEEN;;

i’LL PAY ANY PRiCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[NO BUDGET AT ALL-NO JOKE!]
i HAVE TO HAVE DEM!!!!”

Do they still teach reading in schools? I had to close the comments for that Nike post because of the endless comments asking where to get those shoes despite giving the answer in the first six words.

My post on rainbow roses also remains popular and I’ve gotten a few poorly veiled self promotional comments from florists like this, “I just purchased some of the rainbow roses for my girlfriend. I am out of the country in the military and I wanted something special to wow my girl friend while I am away. I have sent her other gifts in the past but these rainbow roses were the biggest hit. She and her friends could not stop talking about them and how much she loved looking at them. I recommend buying your rainbow roses from [redacted].com or call them at 818-[redacted]. They also included some cute love tokens that said Sending you my love and I miss you that my girlfriend will have to cherish forever.”

I’m happy to mention your shop if you sell rainbow roses but I will punish you for thinking I’m stupid. O Kayeee SO lets git tite comments now Love YA!!!!!!!1!1 me get shoes no BUBLLE

 More pictures from Flickr.

Look how tiny the people seem installing it:

I half expected this memoir about a contemporary art curator to be dry, academic, and full of art world nonsense I was supposed to accept. But given the cover photo was of the author, Marcia Tucker, on a motorcycle in the desert. How stuffy could she be? Turns out, not at all.

In 1968, during an interview for the position of curator at the Whitney, after enduring too many sexist questions, she responds with a rant about why they shouldn’t hire a woman. “…once a month I’ll go crazy and no one will be able to reason with me,…and of course I’ll get pregnant within the year so your investment in me will have been completely wasted.” Regardless, she’s hired as the museum’s first female curator.

Years later she’d start The New Museum, which is an amazing accomplishment. I can’t imagine thinking, “You know, I have no money and no property, but I want to start a major contemporary art museum in New York City.” AND THEN DO IT.

I appreciated her constant challenging and questioning the status quo of everything related to art, museums, and running a non-profit. Genius example: Asking her 10  year-old daughter to write a guide for the show “Bad Girls” a show so controversial the NEA demanded their name be taken off it.

And then, after 20 years of curating shows at one of the most well respected contemporary art museums in the world, at 60, she starts taking classes in stand up comedy, loves them, and starts performing. Show me another art curator/stand up comic. This was a woman who lived passionately. Totally sucks that she died two years ago. I hate hearing about great people who just left the party.

Because it just doesn’t feel like a gym unless there’s neon. I know I haven’t seen gains like I used to since my dumpy third World Gym tried to go upscale and removed their neon and the mural of the squatting gorilla.

I spotted this at Scheels, the worlds largest sporting goods store – the one with the Ferris wheel and President mannequins inside. Their website lists their departments: Hunting, Fishing, Camping, Boating,  Biking, Fitness, Skiing, Skating, and Fudge.