Joe.My.God. LGBT News

It was, in a word, glorious. This, despite that Pride Sunday dawned to blackened skies. I was awakened not by the sound of real thunder, but by the fake computer thunder that the Weather Bug on my laptop makes to alert me that a thunderstorm is imminent. But the threat of a little rain didn’t stop 500,000 of my closest …

This is the story I read at Tuesday’s WYSIWYG… In late September 2004, a friend of mine at ABC-TV called after he forwarded me a press release about to go up on ABC’s site, looking for participants in an episode of 20/20, the Peabody Award winning one-time benchmark of investigative journalism, now currently producing landmark feature stories like “What You …

THIS is Grand Central Station.And THIS is Grand Central Terminal.Now let us not speak of your confusion again.

Maybe I should post a webcam link to the view from behind my desk. I’ve been sitting here for five years and I never get tired of the view.

Confess it. Go ahead, you’ll feel better. .

This Sunday in NYC there will be more ma$$ive big ticket dance parties than you can shake a glowstick at. Once the fireworks over the Pier Dance fade into the Hudson, I’ll be nudging my boys towards Souvenirs, at the East Village’s Element, one of the more swank venues in Manhattan, where I will close my Pride weekend blissing out …

Pick up a copy of this week’s NY Press, their annual Pride edition, which includes coverage of last week’s LGBT anti-violence march, an interview with NYC Council Chairperson (and out lesbian) Christine Quinn, and a fascinating look at the lives of gay New Yorkers who have arrived here to escape persecution in their home countries. You’ll also find another short …

My apologies for two days of radio silence, but I haven’t been feeling well since leaving the street fair on Sunday. Perhaps standing in the sun with a beer cup in my hand for 8 hours is something I shouldn’t be doing anymore. Hopefully next year I’ll plan to arrive later and leave earlier. Yeah, right. Last night’s WYSIWYG was …

For yesterday’s leather street fair, I surveyed my closet for something from my sadly dwindling supply of perv-wear. Chaps? Yeah, right. My chaps are still lying collapsed in a pile of helpless mocking leather-laughter* after my having tried them on before the Black Party. My chain harness? Um, I’m totally not into sharply-defined man-boobs, and I so don’t want to …