S.F.'s Castro Home / S.F.'s Castro October 2007 / S.F.'s Castro December 2007 / Billions of Virgins in Ecstasy / Other Strange sites / e-mail Strange

Castro Photos, Late-Night-TV

Zingers & Funny Pictures

by Strange de Jim

November 2007

Around the Castro

Rainbow bubblers on the corner of Castro and 16th.

At Cafe Flore the famous poster of Karmi has been covered over. Is nothing sacred? (Here's a bad photo of Karmi hidden behind flowers.)

Ixia, on Market between Castro and Noe, always has striking displays.

Here's Ixia's other window.

Two Opening Nights

My wonderful pal Jake Vreeburg invited me to The Reduced Shakespeare Company premieres of The Bible and Hollywood at the Marines Memorial Theatre. Here Dominic Conti signs books and DVDs after the performances. Two other guys were signing with him. I suppose they must have been onstage too. I hadn't noticed.

Pay for View

This $2,495,000 home at 56 Clarendon Avenue has pano views from the huge living room and three of the four bedrooms. For details see www.56Clarendon.com.

From Neatorama.com

Click for 100 Favorite blogs.

Click for 7 Island Wonders.

Click for Annie Leibovitz Disney photos.

Click for Blue Angel video.

Click for leaping lemurs.

Click for more phenomenal Earth images.

Click for Thanatorama.

Click for more geek tees.

Click to view Vincent Price and Tim Burton video

Click to view all 100 notable books.

Click to view Kindle video clip.

Charlie Rose on PBS had an hour on the Kindle. It's the iPod for books, with a screen so good you can read it in bright sunlight, and other features that are amazing. Check it out on Amazon.com.

Click to view more on The Cloud

Click to elf yourself. Now click to Scrooge yourself.

Click to view the astonishing Powerpoint presentation.

Click to put your picture on a magazine cover.

Click to watch Stephen introduce Nancy Pelosi.

Two Books I Loved and One I Really Liked

I Am America (And So Can You!) by Stephen Colbert, Grand Central Publishing 2007, $26.99

Wisdom abounds on every page. Below is a very small selection.

My mother swooped me up and told me that she and my father were leaving me. Then she carried me to the living room to meet Ruth. I was not entirely clear on what a "babysitter" was, so I naturally assumed this old woman was going to replace my parents forever. I was not on board with this plan.
I may have been only three years old, but I already knew that a family was a mother, a father, the kids and the pets—there was no room in that model for an ancient crone wearing slacks and (in my opinion) too many rings.

My second memory is when we went to the zoo, and I saw two rhinos do it.

A father has to be a provider, a teacher, a role model, but most importantly, a distant authority figure who can never be pleased. Otherwise, how will children ever understand the concept of God?

And sure, it's nice to have a second income to buy the little extras like vacations and a place to live, but the mother should never be the primary wage earner. The kids see that, lose respect for their father, and decide to become gay every time. It's known as teenage rebellion, and I've seen parades full of it.

The mother-child bond is a fragile thing. That's why I didn't let my mom out of my sight until two years after I married.

It's in the Bible: "Honor thy Mother and thy Father." It's right after the part about stoning gays. Sure, they could be a little "strict," but I often think back fondly on the memories I haven't repressed.

Your bachelor uncle may seem like a "cool guy" because he has a boat and a flat-screen TV, and all your dad has is you kids. But hang on: In fifty years your uncle won't have anyone to care for him, while your father will be a huge burden on you and your family!

Our seniors have banded together to preserve their hoard of money at the expense of the young. They call this group the AARP, which probably stands for something, but to me, sounds like the noise an old man makes when he's trying to get out of a bean bag chair.

Then, after fourteen happy years together, I came home from school one day and Shasta didn't greet me at the door. My mom and dad sat me down and told me the terrible news. Shasta had gone to live on a big beautiful farm upstate. I couldn't believe it. I never felt so betrayed in my life. I thought Shasta and I were a team. But as soon as some smooth-talking stranger came along with the promise of a bigger field, she was gone. And that's how it is with animals. Always looking for a better offer.
Sorry I wasn't a farmer, Shasta. The suburb had zoning laws—we couldn't grow crops in the yard. How could you?
I pressed my parents for answers, but my mom wouldn't stop crying, and my Dad just kept saying that she was chasing rabbits. Chasing rabbits? I guess Shasta was lying to me about that degenerative hip disease, too.

So if animals aren't our friends, then what are they? The answer can be summed up between two buns.


Any religion that calls itself "Friends" comes across as a little desperate.

Creation: "In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth." Sorry, Darwin-huggers, but it's not "In the beginning, a monkey evolurioned gay marriage."

Card-carrying members of Big Secularism have snaked their way into every branch of our federal government, except for the judicial and executive.

Now, generally speaking, I'm not a big fan of sports. It's a waste of both testosterone and blind, fervent allegiance, both of which would be better directed towards our military.

Sports do have some positive impact on society. They solve problems, such as how to get inner-city kids to spend $175 on shoes.

There are no gays in modern sports, with the one exception being all of women's sports.

World's Strongest Man Competition: I've said it before—it's not really a sport unless there's the possibility of dislodging your intestines.

Fencing: And can we please get rid of that ridiculous electronic scoring system that uses sensors to tell us someone has made a hit? That's what blood is for.

Did you know that the U.S. is the only Western country with cousin-marriage restrictions? Hey Congress, stay out of our bedrooms! Unless, of course, those bedrooms are filled with gay people.

That's right: There was once a "Golden Age" of Hollywood. It was so-called because the original studio heads were the children of gold prospectors who settled in California, struck it rich, and then converted to Judaism.

The Motion Picture Production Code of 1930, often called the "Hays Code" because that's what it forbade onscreen couples from rolling in ...

The Code took effect on March 31, 1930, five months too late to prevent the Wall Street Crash, but early enough to keep the Sixties from happening until approximately 1964. The Hays Code is gone now, but a look back at some of its clauses shows how much we have lost.

657. A man and a woman must never be shown lying in the same bed, unless it has been previously established that one of them is dead.

658. Lascivious dancing shall be prohibited unless it is performed by dusky native girls. Dusky native girls shall be prohibited unless they are portrayed by white actresses.

663. If a character places a folded towel over a second character's eyes and then invites him to do a sit-up while a third character removes his pants and squats in such a manner that the sit-up will bring the second character's nose into contact with the third character's naked nether sphincter, this action must be followed by a fourth character, preferably a member of the clergy, expressing disapproval.

665. If a scene includes a train entering a tunnel, the tunnel shall not be portrayed as enjoying it.

Focus on the actors' faces, especially during sex scenes. (Be careful not to mistake Russell Crowe's ass for his face.)

[HUAC] Most of the charges never added up to anything more than whispers and innuendo, but in Hollywood, whispers and innuendo are accepted as truth. If you don't believe me, ask Richard Gere's gerbil.

Movies, once fantastic dreamscapes where cowboys fought Indians and gay men kissed Elizabeth Taylor, became squalid nightmares where cowboys turned tricks and hillbillies kissed Ned Beatty.

Based upon their behavior in past lives, all Indians are born into different stratas of society called "castes." These castes forever determine what level of tech support questions they are allowed to answer.

Remember: While skin and race are often synonymous, skin cleansing is good, race cleansing is bad.

Building a giant wall is a great way to keep the nation's mind off how many immigrants enter the country through airports.

Darwin claims to have developed this "theory" after studying "finches" on the Galapagos "Islands," but I can guess why he really came up with it. He was on the Galapagos Islands for Spring Break, got smashed, woke up in bed next to a monkey, and then had to come up with a theory that made it all okay.

The great thing about President Bush is he's steady. You know where he stands. He believes the same thing Wednesday that he believed on Monday, no matter what happened Tuesday. Events can change; this man's beliefs never will.

Then you write, "Oh, they're just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." First of all, that is a terrible metaphor. This administration is not sinking. This administration is soaring. If anything, they are rearranging the deck chairs on the Hindenburg!

Making Money by Terry Pratchett, HarperCollins 2007, $25.95

On Discworld Moist von Lipwig, former arch-swindler, is put in charge of Ankh-Morpork's Royal Mint. Terry Pratchett is one of my favorite authors. His books have sold over 45,000,000 copies. Again, below are a small fraction of the goodies.

"You Have An Appointment Now With Lord Vetinari," said the golem.
"I'm sure I don't."
"There Are Two Guards Outside Who Are Sure You Do," Mr. Lipwig," Gladys rumbled.
Oh, Moist thought. One of those appointments.

Gladys dropped a curtsy, and when a golem drops a curtsy you can hear it.

What harm can it do to find out? It's a question that left bruises down the centuries, even more than "It can't hurt if I only take one" and "It's all right if you only do it standing up."

It would be hard to imagine an uglier building that hadn't won a major architectural award.

[Bank policy on currency backed by gold] "I would prefer to say that it is a tacit understanding that we will honor our promise to exchange it for a dollar's worth of gold, provided we are not, in point of fact, asked to."

Mrs. Lavis sniffed. "I don't have much time, sir, but fortunately I have a lot of gin."

"Ah, and she sees your inner self? Or perhaps the carefully constructed inner self you keep around for people to find?"

"Of course, a mistress was expected to be a woman of some accomplishment in those days." She sighed. "Now, of course, the ability to spin upside down around a pole seems to be sufficient."

"People set their watches by the arrival of the Genua Express. They used to set their calendars."

Whoever said you can't fool an honest man wasn't one.

He brought her a little gift suitable for a widow of the age she'd like people to think she was.

[To his dog] "This is going to be the fastest walky in the history of walkies. It is, in fact, going to be a runny ..."

A job for life but not for long.

His eyes had the faraway look of a man who can already see you dead.

She was always referred to as "a society beauty," which showed just how rich the Lavishes were.

He'd always wondered what dishabille looked like, but he'd never expected to see so much of it in one go. Even now, some of his memory cells were still trying to die.

... and Miss Pucci simply didn't know how to work a crowd. She stomped and demanded attention and bullied and insulted and it didn't help that she'd called them "good people," because no one likes an outright liar.

Cut My Own Throat Dibbler sold pies and sausages off a tray, usually to people who were the worse for drink, who then became the worse for pies.

"They used to use arsenic to make skin whiter. That's where we get the phrase 'drop-dead gorgeous.'"

The mood would have been more precisely obtained if the tune it was playing did not appear to be "Cantata and Fugue for Someone Who Has Trouble with the Pedals."

The Umnians did make their own jewelry, though, which largely consisted of scenes of human sacrifice, badly executed in every sense of the word.

"... because I belong to a small group of ladies who run, well, a god-of-the-month club. Er ... that is, we pick a god and believe in him ... or her, obviously, or it, although we draw the line at the ones with teeth and too many legs, er, and foreign ones, of course, and then we pray to them for a month and then we sit down and discuss it."

A smile played around Cosmo's lips, which was a dangerous playground for anything as innocent as a smile.

"Mum says can we please have a sheep's head and you're to leave the eyes in 'cos it's got to see us through the week."

Trolls don't go mad, they get mad.

The price of a good woman was proverbially above rubies, so a skillfully bad one was worth presumably a lot more.

"I couldn't thay. The Igor position on prayer is that it is nothing more than hope with a beat to it."

There's nothing a small dog likes more that a high place from which to yap madly at people.

All heads turned. A path cleared itself for Lord Vetinari, as paths do for men known to have dungeons in their basement.

"One of my predecessors used to have people torn apart by wild tortoises. It was not a quick death. He thought it was a hoot."

Hubert looked like a man who had been wrestling with his conscience and got a knee in the eye.

Igor beamed. At last. All this politeness had been getting on his nerves. What an Igor expected was insane orders. That was what an Igor was born (and, to some extent, made) for. A shouted order to do something of dubious morality with an unpredictable outcome? Thweet!

Selfish & Perverse by Bob Smith, Carroll & Graf Publishers 2007, $26.00.

Bob Smith was the first openly gay comic to appear on The Tonight Show. I used to see him at Josie's Juice Joint in the Castro. In this novel an L.A. writer falls in love with an Alaskan fisherman, gets stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits, goes to Alaska and is courted by the fisherman and a hunky movie star.

Love at first sight makes perfect sense because we're all pressed for time.

The first time he removed his tank top in a locker room scene, I discovered that he was an extremely talented actor.

Joe Benedetti was one of the most popular performers on Aftertaste, and he never let anyone forget that a star has five sharp points.

"We're the Loch Ness Monster of television programs," I said. "Everyone's heard of us but sightings are rare."

Roy laughed before I pointed out that she could hardly sue anyone for harassment after she posted my e-mail address to a Web site for men with a diaper fetish. "Three years later, I'm still getting e-mails from Pamperme347."

"'Todd Greco still felt empty inside even with a big cock up his ass.'"

My lusting after Dylan was clearly a fantasy. For one thing, he was a movie star and I was a production assistant and that's a Cinderella story with a glass ceiling.

"You know what I've always wondered," he said. "Why did Frodo have to walk to Mordor? Why didn't Gandalf just have the eagles fly the ring to Mount Doom in the first place?" He pointed out that an eagle had rescued Gandalf from Isengard and that an eagle could have easily flown over the volcano and dropped the ring in.

"Of course it's news!" roared Wendy. "You're the biggest thing to happen to the La Brea Tar Pits in ten thousand years."

"Do drag queens ever quit?" I asked.
"No," Wendy said. "That's their triumph and their tragedy."

"You'll never be stuck in traffic in Alaska; you'll just be stuck in Alaska."

"Don't forget the gay salmon," I said, suddenly inspired. "He swims upstream against the current and the Christian right." .... queen salmon

Anchorites, or whatever the citizens of Anchorage called themselves ...

"He's a little old to be a boy toy," Dylan said.
"He's practically a collectable."

"I trust you," he'd said, "but I don't trust you with him."

I was concerned about my injury but could multi-tsk-tsk my anxieties ...

Sometimes I fantasized if spinster were spelled "spinsta" it might acquire a newfound cachet.

"We both like nature. Maybe we can become duck buddies."

"I got to talking to an old woman, and she offered to let me try some of her stinkheads."
"How were they?" I asked.
"Let me put it this way: I considered rimming her to get the taste out of my mouth."

"Do lesbians have threesomes?"
"Sort of. We call them, 'couple counseling.'"

TV Zingers

Thursday, November 1

Jay Leno: "The Atlanta International Airport is now considering shorter flushes in its bathrooms to help cope with the drought. Or as Sen. Larry Craig calls that, speed dating."

Dave Letterman: Guest Dr. Phil: "Senator Craig is sort of a bottom feeder, don't you think?"

Jimmy Kimmel: "Dog the Bounty Hunter delivered a racist rant using the N word. They should turn him over to Michael Vick. He hasn't gotten to kill a dog in a long time. A&E has already replaced him with Snoop Dogg the Bounty Hunter."

Craig Ferguson: "I had an uncle who was a strict vegetarian. When he died there was a big turn up at his funeral." "Jessica Alba has announced that she will never do a nude scene in a movie. Never. I wrote a whole screen play for nothing!"

Friday, November 2

Joel McHale on The Soup: "Dog the Bounty Hunter's recorded racist rant has a bright side. Now Michael Richards has a new ring tone."

Lisa Landry on Comedy Central: "That saying's not true. My husband's the nicest guy on earth, and he always finishes first."

Lynne Koplitz on Comedy Central: "Women's equipment is all neat and tucked in with hospital corners, but men look like God was making a bow and the phone rang."

Dave Letterman: "The New York City Marathon is 26 miles. Hell, I log that kind of mileage every night just going to the bathroom." "A man was arrested trying to have sex with a bicycle. Please get some help, Senator Craig."

Jay Leno: "They're opening a Rock & Roll Theme Park. The signs say, 'You must be this high to get on this ride.'" "That Lance Armstrong is dating another hot celebrity. Think of the chicks he'd get if he had a car." Ross the Intern was at a fashion show asking a hunky guy how he got into modeling. "It just came on me." Ross: "What?"

Craig Ferguson on Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie: "Kramer's the racist bee who lives next door."

Monday, November 5

Charlie to Berta the maid on Two and a Half Men: "I don't pay you to mock me." Berta: "You'd have to pay me not to."

The writers' strike shut down all the late-night shows.

Thursday, November 22 (Thanksgiving)

In a rerun Conan O'Brien tells what celebrities are thankful for. "TomKat's daughter, little Suri Cruise, says, 'I'm thankful my daddy knows how to use a turkey baster.'"

Friday, November 23

Joel McHale on The Soup: "For Lance Armstrong to stand up to the media like that took real ball."

Curmudgeion Kids, collected by Jon winokur.

"In general my children refuse to eat anything that hasn't danced on televidion." - Erma Bombeck

"Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he's buying." - Fran Lebowitz

"The first half of our lives is ruined by our parents, and the second half by our children." Clarence Darrow

"Never lend your car to anyone to whom you have given birth. - Erma Bombeck.

Click here to see my photo history of San Francisco's Castro.

Or click on the icon to the right to see it on Amazon.com.

If you're a real adventurer you may also want to try The Strange Experience (Ash-Kar Press, 1980) and learn why hundreds of wonderful people, including these,

were happy to be best of friends with a geek. Click on the icon below for Amazon.com.


Heck, you might as well check out all my books.

Click for free text

. . .

Here are Amazon.com's Current Top Gay Books.



Amazon's Top Humor Books


Amazon.com's Top Stand-Up Comic DVDs






S.F.'s Castro Home / S.F.'s Castro October 2007 / S.F.'s Castro December 2007 / Billions of Virgins in Ecstasy / Other Strange sites / e-mail Strange