i hate this show but i was forced.....

literally hog-tied and co-erced into watching it so that i could see this man, the new bachelor, matt...a brit...
and though these pictures make him look like a twit...he really is a handsome dude and more importatntly a real charmer....so now i'm hooked....
anyone from england: please tell me what kind of accent he has. i mean i know that it is an english accent but from where? his bio says his a londoner and a rich one on top of it. i love the minor buck toothy action he's got going on.
check this out about this stone cold fox:
http://abc.go.com/primetime/bachelor/index?pn=bios#t=bachelor&d=84810
peace,
tyler
matt (the bachelor) wore rugby gear tonight...gulp.
(btw: i finally talked to carlos and it seems his "affair" with gregory has been going on for months!!!! so much for friendship, huh? i have to admit that carlos literally leaping on gregory and pummellng him was something out of a jason statham movie: ultra cool!)anyway it seems that carlos had told gregory that he (carlos) had broken off with his gf and of course, since she sleeps over our pad almost every night...this is not true...hence the dramatic bar fight last weekend.
listened to:
rise-eric kupper remix (samantha james), be still (kenna), closer than close (rosie gaines), bounce and flow (poussez), steppin' out (kaskade)---my favorite song right now.............

sunday is not a day of rest....

saturday night, the bois (carlos, henry, joe, matty and ray) went out to q's to see if we could cause a little trouble.
q's is not a gay bar per se but a number of gay guys go there because of the dearth of gay clubs in santa barbara.
anyway a good time was had by all until HE walked in. and no for once i do not mean bob-o-licious but carlos' current (i guess i could call him boy friend as HE gave carlos a blow job not too long ago...carlos' first by a man...supposedly). anyway: what's with the HE, huh? his name is gregory (never greg according to him).
so this is how it goes: the bois are in a group, doing shots, drinking brew and dancing when all of a sudden an arm, a blow really...grazes my cheek on its way to carlos' jaw. remember that both carlos and gregory play ice hockey and therefore are not only used to fighting as a way of life but are damned strong.
anyway, the blow plows carlos on the mouth out of which spurts a river of blood all over me and matty and propels (i mean literally propels) carlos across the floor onto the much larger gregory and they both go at it before we all get bumped from the club at 1 am.
i attend to carlos' bloody mouth, the other bros escort gregory away who resists all methods to do so. on top of all of this is that he is as noisy and cussing aloud as carlos is subdued and quiet.
what occurs to me? you got it! what the fuck is/has been going on between these two?
so i get stuck with carlos, the quiet one who tells me nothing saying: i'll tell you later. i mean was the one blow job so wonderful for both that they fell in love immediately? did carlos forget to tell gregory that he has a girfriend? is gregory pregnant somehow impregnating himself with the cum that came out of carlos' cock that supposed one time?
it's almost 7 pm here and carlos is still locked up in his bedroom so i have no more news of last night than that.
btw: the bois report that gregory, after he calmed down a bit and they could let go of him, just kept repeating: that fucking carlos...over and over. so the mystery is unsolved as of this minute.
as for me: today i studied all day, did laundry, prepared myself for the week, the middle of which i will spend in las vegas attending a pizza expo with a good friend who owns a bunch of pizza joints here in sb. i unfortunately love to play roulette and plan very much to do so.
now it's time to lay on the sofa, watch john adams, the tudors, big brother and eat as few carbs as i can in order to began my work out routine once again tomorrow which begins with training with the swim team and dealing with the hateful sow swimming coach.
peace,
tyler
listened to lots of music today:
new erykah badu, new hot chip, soundtrack to coppola's dracula, prokoviev piano concerto (argerich), missing persons, andy caldwell, poussez, yaz (who are coming to los angeles soon...first time in 25 years read the ads),roberta flack, ella, sarah, judy, frank, sopranos music, seal,mylene farmer, zazie, i puritani (sutherland, duval)...

Kimberly Peirce's "Stop Loss"

so far this weekend has been a movie-going one. today carlos and i went to see "stop loss" a film by the same director of the stupendous, "boy's don't cry."

Director Kimberly Peirce's last film was the revolutionary, emotionally-charged and truthful "Boy's Don't Cry" with the galvanizing performance of Hilary Swank. That was over 8 years ago and now she has returned with the Iraq War drama, `Stop-Loss" starring a coterie of edgy, hot young actors.
Oddly enough, I think that almost all of the Iraq War based dramas like the recent "Rendition" have been failures at the box office which leads me to wonder, why?
Perhaps, since it is literally happening now, it is too current: the wounds are opening daily with no healing in sight. At the very least, We as Americans are conflicted about our involvement in Iraq.
Peirce has chosen to use the Iraq War as a background onto which she bases her drama with Universal themes of: Where do I fit in? Where do I belong? Do I belong?
Working here with co-writer Mark Richard, Peirce has found a subject in the way the war in Iraq is tearing apart many of its soldiers, in combat and when they return home. This is a wrenching story of men at arms who cannot find peace outside the military circle, who return to civilian life on the horrific edge of violence and despair. This point of view is of course not new, going back at least as far as William Wyler's "The Best Year's of Our Lives" and Michael Cimino's "The Deer Hunter." War is Hell: this we all know and can empathize with but the aftermath, the coming home, the re-adjusting to Life after War is worse.
Several actors shine here: primarily the Brandon King of Ryan Phillipe (whose stop-loss forced re-enlistment forms the backbone of this film) and the Michele of Abbie Cornish who basically steals the film from under all her hot shot male cast members with her persuasive, thoughtful and totally believable performance.
There are several scenes in "Stop Loss" which approach and sometimes go over the edge into hokiness but overall, this film has a real emotional life: these are characters who emote from a real place, a place that it is obvious that Peirce believes in, invests in and ultimately it is the saving grace of this flawed, yet sock-in-the-gut experience film.
tonight being satuday night it's gay night at a couple of sb clubs: so this guy will be club hopping with the boys tonight.
peace,
tyler

hors de prix (priceless)

"hors de prix" opened today and i drug my friend gloria with me to see it.
Hors de Prix (Priceless) stars audrey tatou ("amelie," l'auberge espagnole," "dirty pretty things")as a woman who exists and subsists on the kindness of rich old men but only for a short time: before she gets bored, before he dies, before she realizes that there is another bigger score afoot. tatou plays irene (she is painfully thin in a play i think to replicate the mesmerizing, luminous audrey hepburn of "breakfast at tiffany's") and to add some friction to the mix, director pierre salvadori manipulates a meeting between irene and jean ( gad elmaleh) a poor guy who irene mistakes for her next victim but who meets a rich woman who absurdly wants jean to be her paid escort. Irene takes on the job of transforming jean into a proper french gigolo.
what is refreshing about this film is that director salvadori and his writer are not conflcted in the least about irene and what she does: there is no judgement about these kinds of things in french films. irene's actions are deliberate and goal oriented. irene is a prostitute (a high class one, yes but a prostitute nonetheless), a gold digger, a woman who lives off the kindness of old men who crave her company and her affection.
gold digging as an elevated, something to be strived for activity/way of life: the interplay between jean and irene is witty, fun and thoughtful as irene teaches jean the ropes. the idea that we americans are going to re-make this film sends shudders up my spine. quelle dommage!
bulletin: very handsome man (mid 30's) asked me today outside one of the downtown santa barbara starbucks: are you a rent boy? (actually americans don't use that term (he actually sounded like a south african)so what he really said was...how much?)and because he was so hot i almost said yes, i cost 1000 dollars a session...but i didn't...i just smiled. if you're reading this: meet me after my morning run up garden street up to the mission about 9 am tomorrow, ok? what occurs to me is: what is there about me that prompted him to ask this? i was drenched with sweat, bare chested, wearing perfectly covered up shorts, socks, running shoes (in other words just like 1000's of other so/cal dudes)...waiting in line for a soy capp...what would make him ask me that? he was in business drag: white shirt, tie, beautiful wool gaberdine slacks, nice leather lace ups....UPDATE: YOU KNOW WHAT? I BET THE SOUTH AFRICAN DUDE WAS JUST TRYING TO GET TO MEET ME THOUGH HIS APPROACH WAS KIND OF UNORTHODOX...SO THIS IS PROBABLY A CASE OF MY TAKING MYSELF TOO SERIOUSLY WHICH I THINK IS A NOT ALWAYS GOOD SIDELIGHT TO MY STUDIES...SO SOUTH AFRICA DUDE: IF YOU READ THIS YOU KNOW WHERE I RUN ALMOST EVERY AM...

friday music included: seal's "system," aretha's "sparkle," minus the bear, jill scott, stevie wonder, mary j, ascension (don't ever wonder) maxwell...

the weather has been great here: mid 70's, intense sun, shorts and bare chested weather......

miscellany

so my room mate carlos and i decide to skip our last class today and head out to q's to play some pool, drink beer and flirt with the surfer boys who always seem to be in attendance anytime of the day or night. they are fun, aware that we want them and have loads of fun flirting with us and grabbing their crotches and generally acting a fool. we like them and they us.
the manager, jacque' is an old grade school chum of mine and therefore, being poor ass students that we are, she gives us food and drink for free and we entertain her with brilliant convo and attempts to dance to the 80's new wave music that is always on the soundsystem.
pretty much everything is status quo there until bob-o-licious walks in with a friend, walks up to me and plants a soul kiss on me...yeah right...then i wake up, right?
actually he smiles, waves, picks up a pool cue and plays pool with his friend. what is extremely cool is that he is wearing shorts (not the dreaded huge pocket on the leg ones) that can be best described as tennis togs and a ralph lauren powder blue polo, brown leather havana joe flips and a killer smile made even more killer by the fact that he is obviously a bit fucked up on beer or tequila or both. there is actually nothing sexier than a cute man liquor'd up a bit, right?
anyway, nothing untoward happens between us unfortunately, except once again i am in a position to see his weiner...this time as he stands next to me at the urinal talking about his grad seminar that day and how he misses, not my being, or body or phosphorescent hazel eyes but my seminar contributions. it takes every atom of my being NOT to reach over and grab his scrotum and fondle the head of his penis but of course i don't. i love this guy and would have let him impregnate me right there in the q's men's room with carlos and the surfer dudes waiting for me to come back and play pool with them. oh well.

why is it that most guys can't understand that they must buy a size smaller in flips than they normally wear in shoes? my friends and i call the empty area to the rear of the flips not covered with the foot as the back flap. i hate this. some guys even buy flips two sizes too big and have enough back flap to qualify as a skateboard.

"memory of a killer" anyone seen this terrific film from the netherlands about a hit man in the first stages of alzheimers? though the lead, jan decleir is about 70 he is still manly and sexy but so are all the guys in this film: maybe it's the strange cadence of the dutch language or maybe it's because most dutch men are uncircumsized. i particularly like the scene when the hit man wakes up in bed after fucking a sexy short haired platinum blond prostitute, looks around and forgets who she is and what he has just done to her: scary and real.
so: you're a hit man, been one most of your adult life but on your way to the hit your forget who you're supposed to kill or your brain starts mis-firing and you end up in a movie revival house watching "auntie mame" with a theater full of rosalind russell fans...i.e. gay men. check this one out asap.

as you all know part of my sports psych thing is to work out like a fiend as in work out with the swim team, track team, swimming team and not being adept at any of those sports i generally pull down the average and am generally despised by most of the serious practitioners of these sports. but today i swam the 800 meter freestyle and came in 8th out of 10: whoo-hooo which surprised me as much as it did the fat, ugly, anti-gay swim coach pig, so there!

music: i listened to erykah badu's new cd today almost non-stop and i can almost say that i hate it. but maybe if i listen to it enough, i will change my mind.
i am still addicted to the newish kenna and the newish seal and i'm in love with heidi klum.
peace,
tyler

Redemption through Armani

i caught "american gigolo" again today having not seen it for 10 years which translates to: i was more interested in seeing richard gere's cock than anything else at 13 but now i wanted to view how the thing was put together and why it is now considered a mini-classic.

now, this doesn't mean that i wasn't interested in seeing the weiner once again but now, at the ripe old age of 23, i was also interested in much more: the european look and feel of the film as in how it was achieved by director paul schrader and production designer("visual consultant") ferdinando scarfiotti.

julian (gere) is a high class call boy who services rich women and evidently at some point in his career, though he now says he doesn't do them anymore...men. julian dresses impeccably and almost exclusively in giorgio armani and though this film was made in the mid 1970's, his clothes are timeless, elegant and just plain groovy.

as for gere himself: he is a stone cold fox...sexy, charming, ironic and intelligent as julian.

though much of american gigolo is pretty vapid as it deals and revels in the surface of things...never going too deep into it's characters or situations, it still has a real visceral impact: somehow schrader manages to fashion, through the careful piling on of details (seeing westwood circa 1975 is a trip in itself) much like one would build a house of cards, a meaningful, thoughtful movie not limited to the impact of seeing gere's penis or watching him ply his wares.

american gigolo is definitely a case of something that is much more than meets the eye.

peace,

tyler

tuesday's listens include:

growing pains (mary j.), system (seal), forever changes (love), give me the night (xavier), steppin' out (kaskade)...some jill scott, some vintage roberta flack and luther vandross...

american idol: two monumentally great songs, one by sting and the other by luther vandross (via brenda russell) were demolished by dread locks boy and chicheze

jon hamm

i just watched a re-run of the bill maher show and one of his estimable panel guests was jon hamm, the handsome dude on this page.
hamm is in a series on the amc channel called "mad men" a play on the phrase ad men as in advertising men. the series is set in the 50's world of advertising yet is rife with new milennium feelings of sexual abandon fueled by free flowing booze and broads.
there are scenes of two women coming onto each other, scenes of don (jon hamm) and his colleagues having three ways: 2 men and one woman and often i tent just watching hamm listening intently to his fellow workers as he is doing in the scene to the left.
hamm has a perfect head, a beautiful forehead and twinkling blue eyes. since this series is set in the 50's his clothes are primo suits of sharkskin, ultra white shirts and skinny ties of silk. oddly enough his look is very much the look of now: that is 2008. in his bio for the show it says he lives with his girlfriend and his cat.
i am of course in love with him now particularly since, among the ultra liberals and super intellegentsia who were also on the panel of the bill maher show, he merely smiled a lot and looked devastatingly handsome. his hair was also loose and natural and i wanted very much to taste his penis and suck his toes.
for the moment or maybe even for the week, month or year...he is my new man. i want him and i want him to want me.
peace,
tyler
today, it was back to school, back to my workout schedule...so i had very little time to listen to music, but i did manage to catch the following:
bounce and flow (poussez), the new erykah badu, steppin' out (kaskade), grand canyon-ada remix (tracey thorn), la pluie et les beau temps (zazie)...

Blood and Guts

CHICAGO — Six Iraq war protesters disrupted an Easter Mass on Sunday, shouting and squirting fake blood on themselves and parishioners in a packed auditorium.
Three men and three women startled the crowd during Cardinal Francis George's homily, yelling “Even the Pope calls for peace” as they were removed from the Mass by security guards and ushers.
One Mass attendee, Mike Wainscott of Chicago, yelled at the anti-war protesters.
“Are you happy with yourselves?” he said. “There were kids in there. You scared little kids with your selfish act. Are you happy now?”
The group, which calls itself Catholic Schoolgirls Against the War, said in a statement after the arrests that they targeted the Holy Name Cathedral on Easter to reach a large audience, including Chicago's most prominent Catholic citizens and the press, which usually covers the services.

so i saw this reported on tv just now and to say that i am conflicted about this group's actions is an understatement.
i agree with what the catholic girls against the war stands for and i certainly agree that those that were in attendance at this easter mass had the right to celebrate the ascension of christ into heaven w/o a demonstration. BUT: what is more important: reverence for a man (in this case THE man) who if he were here on earth would more than likely support some hell raising over the pomp and circumstance of a mass in his honor? i'm betting that christ, the ultimate revolutionary is smiling right now thinking about this demo in chicago.
btw, though i certainly have re-affirmed my catholic beliefs of late and gone back to attending services and praying on a regular basis (as i said in a post yesterday, prayer calms me, makes me humble, forces me to examine my life...which is a good thing), i have not decided to enter the priesthood or anything like that. i've just become more spiritual yet i'm still firmly rooted in the worldly.
easter weekend with my uncle was as usual, primo: great convo, great food, great liquor: all of it seasoned with the kind, sweet manner of uncle michael and his huge heart.
peace,
tyler
today, i listened to:
save it for later (the english beat), shame (m2w), closer than close (rosie gaines), rise (samantha jones), love ressurection (alison moyet), my piano (hot chip), gypsy woman (crystal waters), i puritani (sutherland and duval)...

Easter at the Uncs

So: holidays are/have always been a big deal at my uncle michael's and now that he has a regular man (not bad looking but nice, great ass and a huge penis...name is greg), michael is even more attuned to the the niceties of celebrating a holiday: easter is sunday so carlos (my supposedly str8 roomie) head off for los angeles and michael's and untold goodies of the sugar kind.
michael is a great cook and it was from him that i inherited a love of food and of cooking. michael requested that i bring just one thing for him: as he calls them....my famous brownies. a brownie recipe i learned from a man i tricked with when i was 16 and he was 30 maybe? anyway he was a baker, slept days and lived next door to my family in a house he shared with his mother: hmmmm....
anyway the baker-man showed me how to make these brownies and people have been known to beg, plead, offer sex for one. but for the uncs: no strings attached he can get/have as many as his sweet heart desires.
so carlos and i arrive in la around noon and the uncs is waiting with open arms and chocolate bunnies...solid bittersweet chocolate bunnies no less. so we open a bottle of cuvee mumm's and proceed to eat chocolate and drink champagne.

tonight: we all are going out to Geisha for dinner and afterwards to a dance bar. i will not promise to be good.
peace,
tyler

easter saturday listening includes:
close the door (teddy pendergrass), daylight (kenna), soul shelter (sander kleinenberg), always (lisa shaw), don't look back (telepopmusik), situation-richard x remix (yaz), verdi requiem (price, von karajan).............

Good Friday: "A Prince in a Purple Shawl"

no, not that Prince but...


JESUS CHRIST!


yeah i know it is fashionable to deny him and his existence but i choose to believe that he is real and that he indeed died to expiate us of our collective sins.


i also believe that he had a lot to do with the creation of chocolate: chocolate bunnies (for timmy), chocolate eggs filled with caramel, godiva chocolate gift boxes with nuts and chews.


i went to mass this morning and as usual a particular kind of peace and calm came over me. i was in church, on my knees, praying, begging for forgiveness for my transgressions, participating in a lovefest: a lovefest aimed at God and his son Jesus.
prayer is so strange in the year 2008 yet so wonderful and fulfilling that i seem to be the only one in my group who ascribes to its virtues. so be it. all my pagan friends can deny the existence of god. i choose not to. i choose to embrace him, to ascribe to his teachings and to fucking love him and all for which he stands. so sue me: i'm a believer.
so easter is a couple of days away but today, holy friday is for me the most sacred of days: the day that Christ died for our sins. i didn't eat meat today: i was a vegetarian for a day. it's the least i could do for a man who painfully hung on a cross for hours to remind us that there is such a thing as Love and Forgiveness and that there is someone willing to die for it. and isn't that at least enough to warrant our attention?
Peace,
tyler
good friday listening: what else but Verdi's or Mozart's Requiem or at least the cure's disentergration?

yes, bob-o-licious is still tormenting me...

though this term i do not have a class lead by my future husband and father of my future children, bob, i try on a daily basis to go by his office, generally with as little clothing as possible...just in case it turns him on, turns his head, makes him weep or hell makes him smile at least. this is in itself a difficult task in that his office is over a mile away from anything (gym, running track, swimming pool) that can be considered sporty so i'm guessing (actually i know) he has figured out what i am doing and why i am doing it. for christmas i gave him a cool black zipper cardigan with a gray stand up collar sweater from the john varvatos shop and i have yet to see him wear it in public. what he does with it is to display it on a quilted pink woman's/joan crawford no wire hangers hanger in his office for all to see. two things occur to me: where did this very basic, khaki trouser, faded grungy plaid shirt wearing hot, sexy as fuck man get a pink padded hanger and secondly why does he have the perfect sweater for him hanging on the wall of his office as if it were a fucking matisse painting?
my thinking here is that he pulls his pants down at least 3 times a day and jerk offs while he views the sweater winking at him with it's primo cashmere self. (btw...i had to practically beg him to accept such a gift from me as it is a way too expensive a present to accept from a friend much less a moonstruck former student...as in me. but he finally did but admits he has only put it on once and that once was when i made him try it on for me: a time that has been firmly and irrevocably recorded on my memory bank as he looked so handsome i thought i might faint...seriously...faint away like a melodrama heroine with the vapors.
i guess at some point here i need to move on and out but right now i don't feel like it. and: what do i do with the bottega venneta wallet i bought for him in italy in december?(that is besides holding it my hand when i jerk off thinking about it in his ass pocket...)
this summer i have my choice of returning to nyc and columbia, going to paris and the cordon bleu and continuing my cooking education, staying here in sb and coaching a soccer team or blowing off school, etc. for the summer and becoming a beach bum. the dedicated student in me says: go to nyc and learn! the party animal in me says: stay home and fuck off. my personal goal is to be a practicing, licensed clinical psychologist in 2010 so i guess it is nyc for me this summer.
carlos (my roomie) who is still straight but wavering...he actually "allowed" a really cute freshman and fellow hockey player friend of his go down on him. my only question to him was if the dude swallowed and carlos smiled and said nothing else. i hate the strong silent type.
peace,
tyler
i am listening to:
bounce and flow (poussez), never again -remix (kelly clarkson...i wish she had let me write the lyrics to this song because if she had the hate and jealousy would have been hyped up X 10),
sing-moto blanco club remix (annie lennox), could this be the magic (donna summer), sun red sky blue (kenna)...

i'm back, i'm strong, i'm wary...

thanks to those of you that e-mailed me and asked me to come back and share my life with you.
so much shit was spewed from those i thought were my friends which instead of making me strong ...made me weak and this proved to be a revelation to me in that i thought i were a stronger, more self assured person. but like "they" say: you take the lemons and you make lemonade, right?
i am back now, re-energized, studying, fucking, cooking, eating, drinking, enjoying my life.
anything you read about me after i left was mostly false.
what wasn't wrong was that i was and i am a committed young person with a full life of school, loving friends and family. no regular man as yet but then again bob and i are more than just student/teacher friends. we have actually had a meal or three together and.....and nothing as of yet but i'm a firm believer in hope. so who knows?
enough of this: tomorrow i will fill you all in on the bob, my short stint in europe and my progress in school and the latest american idol.
peace,
tyler
songs on my ipod i can't stop listening to:
steppin' out (kaskade), pogo (digitalism), lovelee Dae (Blaze), close the door (teddy pendergrass), daylight (kenna), let me know-joey negro remix (roisin murphy).......................