what slashers have known for years

Our secret is out -- namely, that women (of all persuasions) find gay men, or men who appear gay, hot.

Retailers in Los Angeles, New York and Miami say more and more young, urban, heterosexual men are choosing to dress in women's tight, low-slung jeans and to use stylish lotions, fragrances and hair-care colors and products, according to June reports in the Los Angeles Times and New York Times. Some marketers call men who are eager to embrace their feminine sides "Metrosexuals" and point to English soccer star David Beckham (who braids his hair and paints his fingernails) as an icon. On July 15, the Bravo cable channel will air a makeover show, "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." [Los Angeles Times, 6-21-03; New York Times, 6-23-03]

Quote shamelessly lifted from newsoftheweird.com without permission... but without stealing bandwidth, either.

I originally read this week's News of the Weird column offline in the New Haven Advocate; click to see the illustration for their cover story, "Penis Man." Seriously, click it! Even I couldn't make that up.

yet another boring update post; or, light at the end of the tunnel

Writing this evening from the AOL account of a neighbour whose hospitality I'm abusing -- and let me take this opportunity to reiterate how very much ass AOL sucks -- I have what would appear to be good news on the get-my-own-damn-computer-fixed front.

After knowing for months about my computer problems without saying anything, out of the blue, an acquaintance recommends a computer sales-and-repair guy who turns out to be a family friend. (That's friend of my family, though no one I'd met before, myself.) The sales part mainly involves him building custom used systems for people who can't afford new ones. So, it looks like I may actually have home internet access again in the near future! Mr Repair Guy is going to come pick up the malfunctioning box (yeah, he does that) next week.

Woo. No more hobbling to the library for the dubious privilege of getting summarily booted off after a paltry hour of access; no more begging for the veritable torment of a crappy-ass AOL connection; no more missing out on all of the chat and 99.7% of the new fic and friends' LJ posts.

I can't wait.

Confidentiality

I've been wanting to play over at wednesday100 since I first stumbled across it, but Wednesdays haven't been good for my connection-challenged self, of late. Anyway, speaking of late, here's my entry for this week's 'no Clark, no Lex' challenge.


"Confidentiality"

It was the sex that tipped him off.

Her sudden acquiesence, after years of unequivocal brush-offs, made Helen seem almost to pursue him. Possible explanations for this apparent change of heart were few, and his longstanding policy of monitoring her activities soon revealed the true motive.

Helen's work didn't require equipment normally found in genetics laboratories. She had easy access to her husband's DNA, and Lionel's penchant for bedding his heir's women had provided the comparison sample. Helen's evidence now cluttered his desk, though her results had been no surprise.

He'd take this secret to his grave -- as Helen had, overnight. Lex was his son, blood be damned.


and here's the good old link to my other LJ fic