Category Archives: Singles

Nerd Mating Rituals: “Lover’s Cup”

Posted on by

So, who thinks this is a good idea?

Unquestionably, this matched set of wirelessly synchronized, web-enabled Big Gulp-scale blinkenlite Frankentumblers will help nerds bond with each other.

I say again, Who thinks this is a good idea?

I suppose, when faced with the alternative (allowing them to bond and potentially reproduce in meatspace), this appears pretty innocuous. “Hey,” the Freudians all say, “Let’s help these poor, sex-deprived geeks get their virtual freak on.” But why? And besides, those Freudians are pretty strange, too.

Lovers cups

I suppose it’ll keep them in their basements and off the streets. I suppose it’ll prevent them from searching for the meaning of life and becoming cultists. I suppose it will keep them out of the Irish Heather, sparing me the necessity of eviscerating them when they drool at my chest and try to impress me with their ability to recite all the captains of the Starship Enterprise, backwards.

Someone once said it was nice of Mr. And Mrs. Thomas Carlyle to marry each other “and thus make only two, rather than four people miserable.” So in that sense, nerd bonding could be a good thing. It’ll keep them in their own end of the gene pool, for one thing.

But I think God invented WoW to keep their minds off sex. Because nothing on Planet Earth has been responsible for as many missed opportunities as this single game; it is the highest and purest form of contraception ever invented, as well as the most precisely targeted, and for that we can all give thanks. There are zeta males and females everywhere, rocking monitor tans and not knowing what they are missing, and it’s better that than having them throw off the soma and suddenly realize that The Matrix was neither fictive nor involuntary.

The Lover’s cups will glow when your lover is drinking. When both of you are drinking at the same time, both of the Lover’s Cups glow and celebrate this virtual kiss.

But, I ask, is there potential for betrayal and senseless drama?

You bet! Ah, suddenly, things are looking up.

When one’s Lover’s Cup meets with another cup by toasting, two of them will become a pair of Lover’s Cups until one of them toasts with other cups.

“You’re toast,” takes on a whole new meaning.

I note with some interest that the cups not only light up, but vibrate as well. I’m wondering if, as with Starbucks stainless steel travel tumblers, consumer demand will result in slimmer, longer models. “Let’s do that again! Again! AGAIN!”

Ew. Just ew. And while we’re on the topic, watch where you’re putting that dataglove.

Why do you think they make plastic keyboard covers?

For the Defence

Posted on by

The fact that I am on his side in a battle to the apparent death with a group of crazed fandom should give John Paulus pause.

It should, actually, give him the willies, but he doesn’t know the history there.

So, who is John Paulus? He’s some American guy. I don’t know what he used to do for a living, but I know he has a porn deal now. I know he’s a very steadfast character, and he’s not greedy. I know if I were in a dark alley facing an unknown number of foes, I’d like to have a John Paulus or two on my side. How do I know anything about John Paulus?

Clay Aiken‘s fans went apeshit on him.

Apeshit fans, flamewars, fame, tabloids, lawyers, secret passions: this has “raincoaster” written all over it.

So the back story, as far as I can make out, which is hardly, since the only time I ever watched American Idol was the other night, over the calamari and Mango Madness before Narnia, so I missed Clay Aiken entirely except that I know he didn’t even win and he’s the only famous loser of American Idol, and he has a record coming out this year which has been jeopardized by the whole scandale, is this:

Apparently, John Paulus and Clay Aiken got together and had sex.

That’s it, pretty much. John told, as people who have sex are wont to do, particularly when they have sex with famous people whose record companies would very much like to hint that they are not having sex with people called John, but instead “he just hasn’t found the right girl yet.” John didn’t take any money for telling the story, and he hasn’t changed any of the details of the story since it broke. And he isn’t backing down, despite some rather…pointed…remarks from certain fans known as Claymates (this is ironic, isn’t it? They must not be as literal-minded as I am). Not all the Claymates are wingnuts, but there are enough that I can hear the flapping noises from Canada!

Clay Aiken never actually said he was straight. He’s never said he was gay either, and he hasn’t actually gone and said “John Paulus is wrong,” either, which is interesting. He has posted on his blog (for access to which he charges money) about something that he says is “real,” leading everyone to conclude there are things going around about him which are not real, which, as anyone who knows anything about fandom and fame knows, is by definition true. The lies could be that he’s gay; they could be that he’s straight; they could be that his favorite colour is…whatever. He’s famous, and therefore there are a lot of lies going around about him, true ’nuff. Hell, Viggo Mortensen has been known to complain about lies going around about him that originated with…himself! (Happy Halloween, Viggo!)

Right now the defenders of Clay’s honour are spreading the rumour that it wasn’t Clay on the webcam at all, but some trannie named Coti (again, that’s as I understand it; don’t actually have time to read all 937 comments) and also that John couldn’t have been with Clay because John is straight, to which John says:

if I had a girlfriend please ask her to provide a picture of the two of us together. I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting. If you know something to the contrary I am sure that the National Enquirer would be more than happy to hear your story. I would encourage you to do it. Remember they require you take a lie detector test. Here’s the contact: Abutterfield@nationalenquirer.com.

I’m that confident in myself.

[see why I like this guy?]

You know what’s really entertaining is that Clay knows that he and I were together; he knows that’s him in the webcam as well, but that his fans are saying that he looks like some drag queen named Coti. Clay don’t take it to heart and don’t feel insulted that your fans think you are a female impersonator.

Check out some of the fan posts:

This one is pretty grounded:

I hope that there are more fans like me out there, fans who love the voice, don’t give a crap whether he’s gay or straight, and only worry about this story because his high-risk behavior sounds dangerous. Obviously Clay doesn’t think there are many reasonable fans, but I still think they exist. The bottom line is that Clay can sing and can entertain and it would be a shame if his career were cut short because of this. That said, none of us has any right to demand that he say something or say nothing or that he prove anything other than the fact that he is singing. Insanity

And then there is:

matthew shepard was a killed
very sadly many americans felt he deserved it
umbelievalbe and shameful
does clay really deserve all this

Posted by: totallydifferentanswerthanyesterday whom I am wondering if s/he is asking for Clay to be “a killed” too? And shouldn’t that be “a kilt”? Jez askin’.

Also:

give ME a bed, a toilet and Clay Aiken (with room service for food occassionally) – and I’m pretty much set for life. I don’t want or need anything else. CLAY – call me – you got my number Posted by: ForClayOnly, pretty standard stuff except the part later about getting a dick if that’s what Clay wanted…ew. And…You will NEVER poison OUR minds against Clay, because we LOVE him with a passion you can not hardly begin to comprehend. You would have to have a HEART first…Clay’s blog was NOT patronizing. He likes to give us fun little tests. He is a teacher, remember? It’s fun for him to see who among us can figure it out – and it’s fun for us to try.

Once the meds kick in. Remember, you can’t channel the light until you take the helmet off.

And some posts from John Paulus:

Everything I stated about Clay was fact and truth. The story been floated here about me and some drag queen that I have never met are a fabrication. Claymates you’ve shot yourselves in the foot over the last two months and I have a very funny feeling your[sic] about to shoot yourselves in the head.

You can call me a whore, slut, liar, and accuse me of being a pathetic person. You have a right to your opinion. But, when Claymates make accusations that claim I am involved with drugs- well that crosses the line. Nothing I have stated about Clay was fabricated or concocted. I shared an experience. Also you wrote “John took it way too far in outing Clay in order to start a porn career.” I DID NOT OUT Clay in order to start a porn career. That is a very very false statement. I did a porno only after I lost my job in Real Estate and I have had offers to do porn since 1995.

What’s particularly interesting about this flamewar (besides the fact it is routinely responsible for 10 or so hits on my blog, but that’s only of interest to me) is the vehemence with which significant numbers of the Claymates defend their particular, and rather limited, vision of Clay. Essentially, if he is not exactly as they conceive him to be, he might as well not exist and could, in my estimation, be in some degree of actual danger. I think, under those circumstances, we can all understand anyone’s reluctance to open up the closet door and yell “Surprise!”

raincoaster wins one for the Gipper…well, places in the top ten anyway

Posted on by

and I never liked the damn Gipper.

Two Dollar Radio have just emailed me to let me know my short (and unfortunately nonfiction) story placed in the top ten of their Shittiest Dates contest. My mother would be so proud! Although my mother would have wanted me to go out with him again; he was a preppy!

Here is their manifesto. I simply refuse to enter a contest from a literary platform that doesn’t have a manifesto, don’t you? Well, you have to draw the line somewhere.

And now, the glorious winner. You can see it on their site, too, but since you’ve probably already clicked on the links, you know that. And have been there, done that, and if you bought the t-shirt I thank you because it’ll pay for my prize in the next contest, etc etc. Operation Global Media Domination is proceeding as planned.

Pretention Yay

Behold, the mind-numbing horror of one of the ten shittiest dates ever entered into the contest run by Two Dollar Radio:

 

I should have known it was going to be a long night when he asked me if I minded going out “after rush hour, when the bus fare goes down.”
He was tall. He was handsome. He was fit. He was educated, intelligent, in law school.
He was in love with Rebecca.
How do I know this? He told me. At length. In the restaurant, he insisted on ordering a particular dessert wine with the main course. Bewildered, I wondered if it was some new foodie fad. No, he said, it was because it was called “Sweet Rebecca,” and that was his ex-girlfriend’s name. She dropped him. She was cruel, and sweet, and had hair like golden silk, or so I was informed. When not explaining how perfect she had been, he spent many a long, silent moment staring into the glass and murmuring “Sweet Rebecca.”
At one point he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and showed me the family resemblance to John A. MacDonald, to which I could only reply, “Yes, one of Canada’s truly great alcoholics.” It was a little too late to impress me by then. And he’d drunk most of the wine, although I could have used a Martini or four, myself.
On the way home, he borrowed bus fare; I never intended to see him again, however decorative he may have been, but at a dollar seventy-five to get rid of him it was a steal.
On the long, no, endless ride home, he had one more golden memory for me. Halfway there, he slowly removed his ski gloves and proceeded, methodically, to pick his nose.