Month: June 2006

Before you depart for your fatty American holiday, please take a moment to actually support the values that made this country worth fighting for

gay gothicI’ve already come out (ha ha) with my position on same-sex unions (pro), the unfairness of current marriage laws against unmarried domestic partners in general (very), and gay domestic partners in particular (off the charts).

While it is mildly irksome to me that marriage, with its religious roots and baggage, is the only option for hetero couples who would like to enjoy the same protections and advantage of their straight, married brethren, it is a full-on, hillbilly-kneejerk-nutso outrage that gay couples have no option beyond a half-assed patchwork of easily-yanked domestic partner laws.

I mean, what is this, communist Russia?

Okay, that made no sense, but it was always the grownups’ favorite expression of umbrage back in the 1960s, when I was coming up, and I love it. So there.

Here’s what you do: fight back. Wisconsin, a fairly progressive state when it comes to lots of laws (who knew?) is doing just that. And today is the last day to help kick in to the $30K by 30 campaign to raise funds to fight the Power, or really, just the inequity.

They’ve actually hit their goal of $30K already (fast, bro, these internets are something else!), so now they’re kicking it up a notch, hoping to hit $40K by the time they file their first fundraising report with the state. Because, you know, lots of money means newsworthy, which means more tape on the cause, which means higher profile, which…

Oh, hell, you guys get it.

Go here and donate, please. Then have a safe and happy holiday.

We want full, intact hands with all five digits sporting those same-sex marriage wedding rings…


Photo “Gay Gothic” by Linda Wan Photography via AlanLK on Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Poetry Thursday: I am the COMMUNICA-trix

ctix lite paint

Sometimes I think
nobody reads
communicatrix – dot – com
except old boyfriends
and people interested in the “trix” part.

They click here from Google
and Yahoo!
and comments I leave on D-Listed
(my dirty little secret)
expecting the hotness
and probably
the shortness.

Instead they find insanely long diatribes
about poop
and happiness
and the importance of sorting out your poop
if you want to find happiness

and they leave.


Of course
if I hammer on Microsoft
or talk about my sex life
or blog like a drunken pirate
they can’t get enough.
What’s an earnest
blowhard-evangelist of personal change
to do?
I want the eyeballs
but I want them to care.

Caring eyeballs,
that’s what I want.

So for all of you who came here
expecting sex
and gossip
and more sex
I’m sorry, kids,
despite the provocative name
(which I’m not living up to)
there’s no leather and latex,
no whips or crotch floss
no NSA
breathless confessions
or Dear Penthouse Forum, You’ll Never Believe What Happened to Me letters…

No gigantic cock
sexy cheerleaders
XXX porno
MILF-granny-hot carl-dirty sanchez
girl-on-girl action.

No pointy leather boots
edible underwear
nipple rings
ball clamps
butt plugs
face masks
or restrictive clothing

But if that’s what you’re into
I hear Carly has a corset


With apologies to Robert Bruce, the really good poet who inspired me, and all other poets who actually get how to work in this form.


Poetry Thursday is here.
Neil Kramer (Citizen of the Month), from whom I heard about Poetry Thursday, is here.
Carly Milne, who is hot and actually does own a corset, writes about lots of good stuff here.
Finally, really, really good blogging & poetry at Robert Bruce’s site, knifegunpen, here.

Sparky Donatello’s Self-Portrait Marathon, Installation #1

Colleen WSJ stipple

Sometimes the path to self-clarity involves a lot of sketching.

This time, it involved a lot of Photoshop filters.

Not much time left to the marathon. Then again, there’s not that much time left to my marathon, if you catch my drift.

So here I am on the high board, jumping. Watch me, Mom! Mom, watch me! Mom! Are you watching? Moooooooooooooooom…


More on the Self-Portrait Marathon at Crack Skull Bob, here.
Link to Wally Torta’s genius work on Flickr, here.

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Why I watch KING OF THE HILL every day from 5 – 6

the guys as king of the hill

Peggy Hill: (exasperated but patient) Luanne, have you ever wondered why I spend every Friday night with you?

Luanne: (tentative) Because I challenge you with my intellectual?


More King of the Hill goodness at this GeoCities King of the Hill Information Site

Image “The Guys as King of the Hill” via MZ Web Productions Photo Gallery

Me! On DVD!

Subject Line Here

If I’d had it together, I’d have had Shane do a screen capture of yours truly on stage to accompany this post.

Whatever. I don’t have it that together and it’s too hot to pester anyone for anything non-essential. Besides, it’s an excuse to use my beaut-a-mous artwork again.

DVD of the first iteration of that all-L.A.-blogger extravaganza, SUBJECT LINE HERE, available for purchase. Cost? 15 buckeroos, including postage. All proceeds go to benefit SLH’s charity of the evening, the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society (via fellow blogger, Wil Wheaton‘s Team in Training).

The videographer even put in chapters so you can skip to me and watch over and over again.

To order your copy, email subjectlineheredvd – at- gmail – dot – com, only, you know, without the spaces and stuff. You’ll be emailed back details on how to purchase.

Thanks for playing…literally!


The semi-annual defilthifying of my apartment grows worse


I know, I know, we live in a city. A big one. A humungous one, even, that affords many excellent niceties only a larger metropolis can offer.

Still. Still…

This week’s heat finally forced me to attack my most-loathed chore as a (rental) householder: the replacement of several slats of my jalousie windows with gigantic, ghetto-ready box fans. Yeah, it’s stunningly unnattractive, but when the mercury hits a certain point, I’ll do almost anything to increase the flow of air in the hideous stank soup that is the air chez E-Z-Bake Ovenâ„¢. In fact, I’m typing this naked right now!

It’s always a narsty job, but the sheer amount of filth that must be wiped off the windows pre-removal seems to have grown exponentially in the past few years. Have we crapped up the environment so that things are that much dirtier? Or have we perhaps crapped up the environment so that it’s that much drier, creating barnloads of extra loose dirt to swirl around before settling in my apartment?

More importantly, can I use this turn of events to double-up on ire and take umbrage against my next-door neighbors’ use of gas-powered leaf blowers to blow the dirt off of their driveway? And what’s up with those retards, anyway? Does someone not understand that all they’re doing with those mother-humpin’ leaf-blowers is shooting a bunch of filth arrows in the air, to fall to earth they know not where?

They’re falling in my apartment, you environment-killing assholes! Yeah!!!

And I’ve got the spent pile of sodden paper towels to prove it…


Photo by ♫axime via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.

Colleen of the Past, tonight on Nightline

stevengrossphotoMarriage doesn’t always last, but the photographs are forever.

At least, they are when your wedding photographer goes on to become Wedding Photographer to the Stars.

From an e-mail I received yesterday:

Hi Colleen,

Hope this finds you well!

As you can see from the subject line I was a subject in an interview on TV. As we were setting up the interview the camera man said lets have a shot in the background. An assistant went downstairs and brought up a box of images. I let the camera man pick one out, it was one of you fixing your eyes! I hope your cool with that! Well, it will air tomorrow night! Check it out.

What can I say? The camera(man) loves me…

UPDATE: We’ve been bumped. Clip to air sometime next week. Maybe.

Photograph of some other bride’s feet by Steven E. Gross, because honey, I lost those pix a long time ago…