To Boldly Go Where Only Men Have Gone Before...

Seeing my good friend Joe Bernstein in this picture reminds me of George Takei. In addition to their rare and ethnic ability to play untranslated versions of Final Fantasy, both apparently, are gay sci-fi stars. But the similarities don't end at their shared preference for setting aft thrusters at full power. The fact is that both are exceptional talents (if to slightly varying degrees of recognition), and I am proud to be associated with Joe's work over at Horny Horny Hippos.

Check 'em out.

The Beans Spilt on Grylls

There are very few times at work when I am overcome with the highest form of unadulterated bliss. Nope, I'm not talking about the satisfaction of a job well done. I'm not even talking about taking a dump and realizing you don't need to wipe. I'm talking about only one thing, one of the only pure pleasures left these days: the sweet taste of petty personal vindication. While farking this morning, I was afforded one such moment.

A recent article about Discovery Channel's Man vs. Wild host Bear Grylls in the Hollywood Reporter purports that the oft idolized survivalist might be more likely found in a Best Western than the Wild West. According to the report, a British station running an investigation of the show "confirmed that host Bear Grylls had partaken of indoor accommodations on at least two occasions when his series had depicted him spending the night in the wild."

Say it ain't so.

Propelled by the same genius responsible for facebook groups like Bear Grills would shit on Survivor Man, BEAR GRYLLS is Tits, and (my personal favorite) Bear Grylls: 99% of the worlds manhood in one human being.., Man vs. Wild's popularity has ballooned to unprecedented levels. Like 13 year old boys enjoying their first slow dance at Schlomo Ginsberg's Bar-Mitzvah, these mouth-breathing frat boys collectively reached a state of semi-arousal every time Grylls miraculously "trapped" a rabbit. Just picturing the look on their newly enlightened faces is, well, getting me aroused.

And don't get me wrong, I loved Wild. After all, what's not to like about a man squeezing an elephant turd for a drink of water? But as with most pop-culture phenomena that I enjoy, the show was wrested from my hands by a vast sea of assholes completely missing the point that Wild is just a better packaged Fear Factor. Discovery Channel, the show's network, proffered this steaming load of corporate BS:

"Discovery Communications has learned that isolated elements of the 'Man vs.Wild' show in some episodes were not natural to the environment, and that for health and safety concerns the crew and host received some survival assistance while in the field. "

No shit. Those bukake-blankets that hotels call comforters aren't natural in any environment except the Houston 620. But what's more important is that Discovery, which alleges "100% [transparency]" in the future, is missing the point too.

Wild isn't about masculinity or survival, it's all about fun. Like most "reality" shows, Wild blends an enthralling mix of authenticity, fantasy, and human touch. Just like there's no need to believe that WWE wrestlers actually fight or that all the snappy one-liners on MTV's Next aren't provided ahead of time, knowing that Grylls occasionally stays in a hotel shouldn't ruin the experience. If you don't believe me, try watching Survivorman.

What It Is

Many of you who know me probably wouldn't have figured me for a blogger. We’ll you’re right. Blogging is for gays and if you tell anyone about this I'll fucking kill you.

That said, I hope “Drunk Girl Sexy Face” proves to be exactly what it seems: totally undignified, mostly lacking in focus, frequently amusing, occasionally the kind of thing that makes your night but you’d still never tell your friends about, and if nothing else, a source for my mild personal amusement.

Welcome, and enjoy. Or don’t enjoy. I don’t care.