Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Wedding Bell Blog Blues -OR- D.C. Homo June Pride Weekend

Augustana Lutheran Church located literally a couple hundred feet from my apartment building, Washington, D.C., 2:56PM, June 9, 2012.


Today is dreadful weatherwise with uninterrupted hot sunshine and temps around 90F.

At least WOODY! and Sterling's pet "Palka - cabra" she-dragon are happy. There she is ...



Wall-P Wedding Bells Chime (in his Otherwise Meaningless Universe)

So today was Wall-P's Department of Corporate Legal Stoogery-Approved wedding to The Mistress of the Manse in his otherwise meaningless, indifferent, money-and-power-centered, "Eh-Eh-There-Is-No-God" Universe.

"Eh. Eh. This represents a good investment and career-enhancing decision."

They got married over on his 40-acres-and-a-mule plantation somewhere near Harper's Ferry. This plantation is in addition to his all off-white painted 40+ room D.C. plantation.

Yes, here is an image of that plantation and the groundskeeper.

I'm sure the purchase was an excellent value for his money -- probably a foreclosed property upon which he swooped. And now all the walls are painted Wall-P off-white.

Though he and I were once very close friends -- to the extent Wall-P with his dial-tone personality can be friends with anyone -- I was not invited because I fell afoul of the The Mistress of the Manse. Big time.

I imagine there were a few hundred guests -- primarily of the American suburban bourgeoisie sort, and all in good standing with the corporate oligarchical overclass that they -- out of habit and/or necessity -- serve.

The wedding itself was surely an "upmarket" affair featuring taquitos and Miller Lites for appetizers; skirt steaks, baked potatoes, and steamed veggies in a bag for entries; wedding cake for dessert; and cases of red and white wine purchased cheaply from Costco. Big box retail stores must figure into the event.


As for the guests, they were mostly of the suburban American married-with-children sort ...

... and as a result the conversations were all invariably focused on the only concern of such humans: money and finance, sports, endless job talk, their bratty and annoying children, and banal and vapid political observations all well within the bounds of the American corporate oligarchical overclass's parameters of "acceptable debate."

And all in the context of shrieking little kids playing with their electronic toys, drooling babies pooping in diapers, and, as ever, the American Lady Macbeth wives ...

... who have long since turned their husbands into frogs bestriding their suburban tract house lily pads, or maybe just bourgeois marshmallows.

Wall-P likely had an overly festive time with the usual suspects and that was all good for some banal frivolity ...

... including liberal outdoor use of shaving cream and/or that silly string stuff on cars, letting the air out of parked car tires, not to mention doing some tequila shots and smoking cigars ... until manipulative wives started having strategic headaches or just throwing tantrums, while small children got cranky and insufferable, and then it was time to go back to their suburban McMansions.

The Mistress of the Manse also invited a few of "the gays" from D.C. to go -- including the the shrieking, scary one (he who would rather self-defeatingly plow through the solid rock base of a mountain rather than drive an extra 15 pleasant minutes around the mountain because it proves some irrelevant and/or wildly passive-aggressive point).

As you can see, it was a real upmarket affair, indeed.

The actual "service" was given by some appropriately non-denominational, non-organized religion minister-human -- probably some wacky female in Catholic robes and draped in Javanese beads.

I'm guessing she talked about the "eternality" of love and how "these two young people" -- yeah, right -- are "embarking on life's beautiful journey."

And that's when the ring -- pictured at left just before Wall-P checked the Consumer Reports rating and bought it -- was put on Mistress's finger, the deed done.

Now I don't actually know any of this since (1) I was not there, and (2) the Mistress probably warned Kristof he'd be excommunicated if he told me anything.

Here is a copy of the prenuptial agreement NOT counting various attachments including the last five years' worth of Consumer Reports.

As for Wall-P, I am guessing that it was no more than 15 minutes after the the I DO's -- or rather, the "ITISWHATITIS's" -- that marked the actual contract execution before he checked his iPhone to see what his clients and corporate masters were demanding.

As you can imagine, I was not invited. Furthermore, I'm rapily approaching the condition of having no friends whatsoever, but that's fine with me. Good.


Non Wall-P Wedding Stuff ...

Last night, I had a very nice -- albeit boozy -- time at Larry's Lounge with DD and Jeremy discussing all kinds of stuff theological and political. I texted a few of DD's comments to Kristof during the course of the night, so I can repost them here.

First, keep in mind that DD, a co-worker and friend, is both devoutly Lutheran with a fundamentally conservative world view yet also quite eco-minded.

Also keep in mind that todays fundie GOP'ers / Teabaggers are not "conservative" but illiberal and irrational rightwing radicals who serve as useful idiots and tools of the corporate overclass.

Click on image for larger version.

DD: "This is why Obama struggles -- How do you understand as a rational person people who are irrational or para-rational in their world view?"

DD (who is Lutheran): "And that's why my advice to my fellow Christians is, 'Shut the fuck up and do something to help...'"

DD: "This pope is a placeholder until you get an actual pope. He is a theological sorbet."

DD: "These days people are spiritually illiterate."

DD: "Screw atheists. They're all ex-Catholics. Four out of five tub-thumping atheists are ex-Catholics."

I should point out that it was DD who (inadvertently?) got me to see the usefulness of a Gnostic philosophy. He also just lent me a copy of his Nature Walking featuring writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, in particular Thoreau's Walking.

DD stayed until nearly 830PM before heading back to Rockville and his wife and two young children. Jeremy left soon thereafter. I ended up doing another shot and then stumbling home by 930PM, whereupon I went to bed by 10PM and didn't get up finally until about 1215PM today. Thus, I did not "go out" last night.



Saw this on Paul Krugman's blog, specifically, here.


The Weather ...

As I mentioned, today is a hot and sunny day -- shitty, as far as I'm concerned -- and we are entering that ghastly 4 months of the year when it is just stifling in Washington, D.C., with few prospects for rain except the odd thunderstorm that invariably misses National Airport and/or the Northwest quadrant of D.C.


D.C. High Homo Fest: 2012

This weekend is the annual High Homo Bitchy and Narcissism Fest, also known as Capital Pride, with the same vapid parade on 17th Street through the heart of the D.C. Gay Mafia's territory.

Last year, I had a noteworthy non-encounter encounter outside with Mr. Sirius.

Here is a picture I took on June 11, 2011 (when the parade was held last year). He was standing sentinel outside JRs. I wrote about it here (but did not post the above picture at the time).

He totally knew I was there but pretended not to see me. But he ran inside to go get Oooza the Unloved Crow Creature, who tried to espy me in the crowd but did not. Mr. Sirius looked weirdly thin in that picture -- possibly because he had recently split up with "Mr. Good Valley" and his weight dropped sharply.

I'm sure he is doing fine now.

Anyway, I will be avoiding the stupid parade -- seeing the same venal and corrupt D.C. Council members drive by along with floats atop which are a few tired, vicious, un-funny drag queens and nearly naked gay muscle boys all sweaty glistening.

Tomorrow is the actual street festival on Pennsylvania Ave., when bovine corn syrup-fed tourists from Middle America in shorts, sandals, and t-shirts -- emblazoned with flags, eagles, and the words "THESE COLORS DON'T RUN" -- wander into the heart of D.C.'s homo community as it is briefly amassed down on that D.C. political Avenue of Dreams.

Sometimes watching the unlikely mixing is fun.


I had a 40+ minute conversation with my dad a brief while ago. He was in the hospital ER down in Flagler Beach, Florida yesterday -- this one -- for an acutely painful bout of diverticulosis.

My dad walking on the beach in Flagler Beach, Fla., Sept. 5, 2010.

I actually called him while he was in the ER (I didn't know he was there). However, he seems to have quickly recovered -- and promptly overdid it today by walking two miles, swimming in the ocean, and then doing 25 laps in the pool in the development where he lives. He is 71 years old.

Here he and I were in Daytona Beach on a stormy day, Oct. 7, 2011.

I'm going down there to see him for several days in late July.


The yard at 2034 16th Street NW, Washington, D.C., 2:59PM, June 9, 2012.

Of note, my building's address -- 2013 -- will correspond to the year next year. D.C. would have to exist in its present form until AD8500 (which, obviously, it won't) to reach the highest street address in the District of Columbia (8500 East Beach Drive, located next to 1799 Verbena Street).


OK, that's about all for now. My plan this for tonight is to go to Nellie's, though possibly going to No. 9 and maybe even the Rivers at the Watergate first. Not sure. My next planned update will be early next week (Monday or Tuesday night).


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