Lucky

TY- when I had to look up twitterpated on dictionary.com, I saw that the word of the day was tarradiddles, so I tried to use it in a sentence. Today's word of the day is deracinate: de·rac·in·ate /dɪˈræsəˌneɪt/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[di-ras-uh-neyt] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –verb (used with object), -nat·ed, -nat·ing. 1. to pull up by the roots; uproot; extirpate; eradicate. 2. to isolate or alienate (a person) from a native or customary culture or environment Use it in a sentence? Okay: The fees to be charged here will deracinate many members! (This post provided to MER by Lucky at no charge!)

Thee you go again with the tarradiddles. Try for some humor next time!

Well, I'll hold your hand as long as the tattoo ain't going on your butt!

Try again!

You're welcome, OZ. I am glad that I could provide some entertainment for you. Surely that's good enough for a complimentary membership upgrade, isn't it?

Oz, I don't know how a pumpkin tattoo would look on you, but I'd bet that you like this one: http://www.bodymod.org/Tat/TatImages/5597/5597-med.jpg

Apparently the New York Times couldn't find out who this escort was, but his distinctive tiger tattoos helped to ID him: http://fleshbot.com/assets/resources/2007/...2_04_tobias.jpg Here's the scoop from fleshbot: You can almost smell the schadenfreude as the New York Times reports on the curious tale of hedge fund manager and television talking head Seth Tobias, who was found floating face down "Sunset Boulevard"-style in the swimming pool of his Florida mansion earlier this year. It seems that Tobias led a lavish lifestyle which included $35,000 mortgage payments and $500 monthly cable bills ... not to mention lashings of drugs and strippers, at least according to those who claim that Tobias' wife "cajoled her husband into the water while he was on a cocaine binge with a promise of sex with a male go-go dancer known as Tiger". Despite the caginess of the West Palm Beach gay bar owner who was contacted by the Times reporters for more information, it wasn't too hard to track down who Tiger is—after all, how many blonde tiger stripe-tattooed strippers-slash-porn stars are there out there? (We also seem to remember seeing him in the Chi Chi LaRue-directed bisex flick "Mile Bi Club" a while back.) It's not clear whether he had anything to do with Tobias' death, but one thing's for sure: if you want to go about meeting Tiger yourself, you don't have to go looking at the bottom of a swimming pool to find him. ·

So many tattoos are really ugly that I wonder what the person will do when he gets older and all that color and ink has sagged along with the skin. In IN magazine this week, there is a photo of a guy with just one tasteful tattoo...well, maybe not tasteful...it's a gun tattooed to his abdomen!

Many think to go to Central Park, but the Cloisters far up in Manhattan are quite a spectacle when the fall colors are showing. It has a very interesting museum as well.

"The Ritz is a play at Studio 54. ... It is currently playing in NYC at Studio 54." It still is playing in NYC at Studio 54 as it is one of the plays not affected by the strike. Given Oz's taste in young flesh, I am surprised that he only talks about Ryan Idol. There is another character, who has no lines, but lightens up the stage with his beautiful blond surfer boy looks. Everytime he goes in the steamroom, he drops his towel, giving the audience a look at his beautiful bubble butt. At the end of the show, he does a go-go routine that is fabulous. At the performance I saw, they were collecting for Broadway Cares after the show. The blond was one of the collectors, and, even though he had covered up the skimpy briefs he wore on stage, he still was barechested and beautiful. So, in the spirit of giving, I gave him a dollar as I would any other hot go--go boy. I guess if we keep doing theater reviews, we may have to also branch out into book reviews. But, for now, keep your eye out for the newest musical coming to Broadway: On The Townie! It's based on the book by a group of conventioneers at a paper convention in Chicago. Boy, do they ever cut loose!

Townie, does this publicist job pay well? Are you considering a career change? Maybe escort management is a career to consider. You could be the Scott Boras of the escort world!

As one who enjoys message board forums, I wish this site well and welcome Foxy on board.

Where is ncm when we need him? Surely he can find 3 Minnesota boys to round out the numbers!

If watching Laverne & Shirley is what it takes to get Southern Man posting again, then I will sit through it with him for two whole episodes!

Sometimes I think that shows like that, along with the Nanny and Laverne and Shirley are previews of hell. Their purpose is to encourage us to live a good life lest we be stuck with them for eternity. Unfortunately, I have just named the bf's favorite shows!

One thing we can agree on- Montreal bars are a lot better with the smoking ban!

When Mr. Locke went to Stock, taz had only been involved in the ownership for a month, so I suggest he hold his vitriole until he has a chance to see if the place now meets his lofty standards. I would feel Lucky if he took me along on the trip! The most exuberant dancers are at Taboo. They put a lot of energy in their dance, maybe that's why they are so unfriendly afterwards, they are just tired! And speaking of tired, poor Marc Anthony had to stay up all night Sunday, take care of all the boys in New Orleans this week, and will be up to 4 am again tonight in Montreal. What a dedicated guy!

Well now I have to go from admiring your ability to rrelate to so many young guys to admiring your stamina. You would be very unlikely to run into me at 4 am anywhere as I like to be in bed by midnight. That was why the Gaiety and Stella's were so suitable...I could get laid and go to bed early! I also flew out Monday, but I left the party in plenty of time to get some sleep, or I would have been a wreck upon arrival!

A few months ago a poster here complained about Stock Bar, saying that the dancers were not showing dick and blah blah blah but my experience there last week was superb! I saw lots of dick...soft, semisoft, and rock hard. There was a great variety of dancers and the lap dances were alll quite fun. The place looks really nice too! Campus was fun as well, but being smaller, the choices were not as good. They had a special show with Pierre Fitch, a former dancer there and now a porn star (?) (I had met him the Sunday before at the Folsom Fair...does he ever change those undies?) Anyway, his show was quite lame. He goes behind a screen and dildos himself, and then does the same thing in front of the screen, all the time never getting hard. Yawn. The new curtains though were a hit with me. Taboo is the unfriendliest bar I have been to in Montreal. The dancers, excepting Diego, are quite stand-offish and seem to operate in a world of their own...one that doesn't include but a select few of the customers. So many feminine boys...I wonder what their lives are like outside of Taboo. Adonis was only worth a quick peak. I have never been a fan of the place. The Black and Blue Party? Huge, but way too many women for me. The opening show featured all these male and female dancers crawling around pretending to be wild animals or something...at one point they simulated fucking, but boy/girl. Huh? It took 45 minutes to get past security as they checked everybody just like it was an airport..shoes off and all. I saw guys taking their pills on the subway and others stuffing things behind their balls...the one place security was afrraid to check. Quite a few, if not most of the crowd, seemed to be pretty high to me. But I'm no expert. So that's just my opinion, and not worth too much here, I know.

First of all, doesn't Bill get some credit for actually going out to dinner with AL SHARPTON? How would you like to sit through an entire dinner with that loudmouth friend of Tawanna Bradley? Of course, AL gets credit too for going out to dinner with that loudmouth friend of Ann Coulter. Come to think of it, they deserve each other. Besides, I have been to Sylvia's a couple of times and I can tell you that Amy Ruth's is better. I went to church once with Bill O 'Reilly. After reciting the Lord's Prayer he looked up at Jesus on the cross and said "You can have the last word"

"...head that causes a loud bell to be heard every three minutes, making it impossible for anyone to hold a thought and thus unable to rebel." Every three minutes? Mine goes off every two minutes. No wonder I am so passive!

Like Mr. Oz, I have also flown in and out of Phuket airport several times. Even though I didn't know anybody on this flight, I looked at each name on the list of the dead. Many families, couples, and children. It is very sad wherever it happens, but Phuket has had its share of tragedy lately for such a beautiful place. Ironically, the guys I traveled to Phuket with are now themselves dead. But they got to see the beauty of the area.

"LOL! You memorized that? Hats off." That I could memorize that seems like such a foreign concept these days as I worry about my brain losing any memory function, but today the NYTimes had an article that restored some of my confidence: Britney? That’s All She Rote By JENNY LYN BADER Published: September 16, 2007 OOPS! Britney Spears forgot the words she meant to lip-sync at the MTV Video Music Awards on Sunday. With this momentary brain malfunction, she joined the absent-minded ranks of “American Idol†runner-up Katharine McPhee, who dropped a line from her medley of “Hound Dog/All Shook Up†in last year’s finals, and Miss Teen South Carolina, Lauren Caitlin Upton, who plumb forgot what she was saying in a pageant interview that became a YouTube sensation. WHAT’S MY LINE Memorization and recitation are old hat. Forgetful stars like Britney Spears are symbols of our times. Performance anxiety, heavy drinking and even hair extensions have been variously blamed for these lapses. But why blame the victims? They are just products of a culture that does not enforce the development of memory skills. It’s gotten easy to forget to teach young people how to remember. The Victorian ideal of encyclopedic knowledge has fallen away. While it used to be possible for one person to know all there was to know, with our current explosion of information, one person could never know it all. And said person isn’t even motivated to know a little bit — certainly not by heart. As storage space on computer chips increases, human data storage decreases. With cellphones, no one even knows phone numbers anymore. Given the rise of Web search engines, facts that used to be reliably in our brains are now at our fingertips, if we can remember our passwords. Oration and recitation, once staples of the American school system, have largely been phased out. Rhetoric programs at universities have narrowed, merged with communications departments, or been eliminated altogether. “We don’t have that kind of oral culture anymore,†said Prof. James Engell, author of “The Committed Word: Literature and Public Values,†who teaches a rhetoric course at Harvard. “We are in a culture that devalues our sense of memory.†Back when John Quincy Adams was teaching it, Mr. Engell said, “rhetoric was an umbrella where you got moral philosophy, the development of literary taste, intellectual prose, aesthetic appreciation, memorization and oral presentation. The ultimate object of this was what the Greeks called phronesis, or practical wisdom.†Prof. Catherine Robson of the University of California at Davis said there also was “an older heritage in American education where recitation was the standard pedagogical mode.†“Everything was memorized, not just poetry,†said Ms. Robson, author of the forthcoming “Heart Beats: Everyday Life and the Memorized Poem.†“Knowing your lesson. The word recitation means repeating any lesson.†(She warns against too much nostalgia for the memory-happy past: “An illusion of community was created because tremendous numbers of people learned exactly the same texts.â€) Poetry memorization held, even as other rote learning slipped away. But no one could prove it helped the mind develop: “That was one of the big justifications in the last years of the 19th century — it promotes memory training,†Professor Robson said. “Then there was a whole slew of psychological tests and all they could discover was that memorizing poetry helps you to memorize poetry.†But contemporary scientists have discovered that memorization exercises can stave off dementia, introducing a new world of “neurobics.†Memory needs a workout as much as the abs do. Researchers have even shown that reciting poetry in dactylic hexameter can help synchronize heartbeats with breathing. Other body parts may be involved, too, as suggested by stories of transplant patients who acquire memories not their own. Mr. Engell said, “Memory has a kind of bodily presence.†Of course the oral tradition has been declining since antiquity. Plato describes the problem in his “Phaedrus,†where a god offers King Thamus the gift of writing as an aid to wisdom and memory; the king says no thanks — it could only weaken both. The rise of literacy and literary technology did undercut the oral tradition, leading to a communication crisis that, as Eric Havelock argued in his landmark book “The Muse Learns to Write,†would be mirrored in modernity. Recent illiteracy and newer technologies compound the problem, rendering us more memory free and fact impaired than ever. It doesn’t help that we lack reflective time. “The idea that you would devote a good deal of time to a single thing or a single poem or a single piece of data seems like it would be a waste of time because you could be multitasking,†said Joan Gussow, a professor at Columbia Teachers College. Even with recent attempts to revive the oral tradition like “Poetry Out Loud,†a national high school recitation competition, those who can recite long pieces by heart are considered unusual (while those who can repeat brief platitudes on cue are considered presidential material). “When I was brought up, we had to memorize so much Shakespeare,†said the playwright A. R. Gurney. “One of the reasons I like to work in the theater is that theater not only dignifies the idea of memory but also it’s an art form that calls on the cultural memory.†Mr. Gurney was surprised when “Love Letters,†which he wrote as a literary piece, was considered a play and performed with scripts in hand by actors who didn’t have to memorize a word. Soon other plays produced as readings followed, like Eve Ensler’s “Vagina Monologues†and “The Exonerated†by Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen, attracting distinguished performers with the promise of little rehearsal time and no commitment to memory. “Asking actors to simply read a script — though it works out very well — I feel I’ve in some ways started a trend that is not totally helpful for the culture,†Mr. Gurney said. But those unmemorized dramas are just part of a trend that’s been going on for ages, beginning with a blind poet who could recite whole books of verse, and ending with a blindsided pop princess who just wanted to make a comeback.

Brooklyn? What about Boston? After last night's trouncing comeback by the Yankees over Boston, there's one poem they are citing in Boston today, and that, coincidentally, is the only poem I ever memorized: Casey at the Bat By Ernest Lawrence Thayer Taken From the San Francisco Examiner - June 3, 1888 The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day; The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that â€â€ We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat." But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat; For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt. Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt. Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped â€â€ "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said "Strike two!" "Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again. The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate; He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate. And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville â€â€ mighty Casey has struck out. http://www.simonsays.com/assets/isbn/06898..._0689854943.jpg