The Bodies Must Never Be Found.

The confused addled mind of a howling lunatic of an elderly man was my first contact with humanity today. Or at least the first one I paid attention to. Not realizing that the doors of the train would not stay open indefinitely until such a time that howling lunatic dragged his sorry confused ass out of his seat to exit, the doors closed on this poor soul, and it quickly became a scene from Twin Peaks. P-E-O-P-L-E-I-N-T-H-E-C-I-T-Y. OK, so maybe I only wish the subway creeps were weird in a good way when in fact they are simply deranged in a typical way, but dreams are bridges into an invisible world you will never understand.

Last night I watched something that I can't believe I was ever able to live without. It's called the Ultimate Fighting Championship and for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about you're probably not homosexual. It is for lack of better words, hot ripped sweaty young guys in every manner of undress rasslin, and a feudin, and a kickin' and a ass whuppin', and a erection producin'. Oh my. And they always hug and shake hands afterward. That's what I've affectionately come to call "the reacharound". Anyway click here for the UFC photo gallery, and click here for the UFC video gallery.

UFC is perhaps the greatest thing to happen to my life since M4M on Craigslist. And my fortune cookie at lunch said I will be coming into a fortune and of course I thought it was clever-ish, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would actually come true. There are probably people I should thank right about now, but I actually found it all by myself. Compadre was actually watching it, and I sprained something in my neck as I was walking past the television, and the rest is history. I told Compadre we are all over that shit the next time they come to Vegas. I need to firm up the schedule, but I think how it should play out is sometime around May I fly to New York to catch a Yankees homestead, then fly to Seattle to catch the series versus the Mariners, then fly to Vegas for Ultimate Fighting Championship. I'm sure there's a gay travel agency that sells a package. It would be so jetset to fly cross country twice, then jump into the festering hell-pit that is Vegas for UFC. I do like to stay abreast and support all important sporting events.

Both of them.

In all seriousness now. Boys beating up boys while undressed in one thing in that it's entirely consensual perhaps even lucrative who knows. Boys or Girls tacitly supporting the torture and killing of animals for fashion is morally indefensible. I have no idea how the two are related, but work it out.

I wanted to share an amusing ad campaign about a played-out clothing "house" I have absolutely no respect or time for. I of course mean Burberry. And the ad campaign is PETA's Bloody Burberry. Some of you may remember the blogs about the Bur-bots. Luckily Burberry has fallen almost entirely out of fashion in LA, but not so much in slo-mo Seattle but give it time. The point is I'm not subjected to the nauseating check nearly as often. But it isn't enough to not be subjected to something so manifestly vile. Some things need to lose all credibility and cultural currency, and one of those things is Burberry. Make it happen. Do what you can. Have a cruelty and nouveau riche free Holiday Season. You really do owe it to yourselves