Thursday, January 29, 2009


For those who may not know, I have three sisters. Two older sisters and one younger. Growing up with three sisters had its positives and its negatives. As the only male in a household of estrogen and maxi pads, you can imagine the frustration and confusion I experienced on a daily basis. Not having a brother (or any male influence for that matter) in our household was rather daunting, simply because I lacked the proper vessel to fully release and express my boyhood aggression.

While my two older sisters were blow-drying their hair to prepare to hit the local club scene, I was left to harass my younger sister Lilly. Part-timing as the brother I never had, Lilly was not afraid to get down-and-dirty with me. We would have Matchbox Car and Transformers sessions coupled with aggressive rough-housing matches which would end up with one of us knocking the shit out of the other. You see, I needed an outlet for my pent-up aggression and my little sister was more than happy to oblige.

It seems as though eons have past since our brutal brigades and hair-pulling contests but we remain as close as Siamese Twins:
Now that we're all grown up and live quite a distance from one another, our time spent together these past few years have been few and far between. Despite this geological intrusion however, we manage to make time together to recharge our slightly insane sibling bond.

Although Lilly turns 33 today, I will always see her as that 8-year-old wise girl with a mean left hook and sly sense of sarcasm. Always gentle as a butterfly, but when pushed beyond her limit she stings like a fucking bee.

This post is for you my little Scallywag, for without you I would shrivel up like a raisin sitting in the sun. Without you I would slam face-first into a wall and not hear that quiescent, sinister giggle in the background. Without you my corny-ass jokes would fall to the ground with a vociferous thump. Without you... I would die.


Monday, January 26, 2009


Here's just a minuscule sample of what I am listening to on heavy rotation. My list varies tremendously, and serves as an example that my ears do not discriminate.
And yes, it's my top 9 songs... not 10. You saw it correctly bitches.

When Sean Paul first blasted into the scene of dancehall, I've been completely and utterly smitten with him. Defying what I proclaim as the ultimate HOTNESS, Sean finishes me off with some of the best dancehall to date. Is it hot in here?

Adele is a British singer. I've really been into British singers of late. Listen to her music. Just proves that white women do have soul.

Ask anyone who somewhat knows me and they'll tell you that I will eat custard off this bitch. Her swagger and ever-lasting fabulosity keeps me entranced in almost everything she does. Beyonce doesn't just make videos, she batters them. I've obsessively played Single Ladies ever since it first came out and I've memorized every step in her outrageous video of the same name. If she just paid attention to me... then maybe I would PUT A RING ON IT.

Amy is part of me. I feel her pain. Amy just wants to be loved... that's all. I can provide that love Amy. This woman has been the soundtrack to my life for the past 4 years and I cannot, I will not go a single day without listening to her heart-wrenching melodic masterpieces.

When Bedtime Story came out back in 94, I molested and abused this track until Madonna herself begged and pleaded for me to no longer play it. Not only is Bedtime Story one of the hottest club songs of its time (Bjork produced and wrote the track with Nelly Hooper) but I continue to bang it through my speakers as I dance along with wild abandon.

From the days of hardcore female rappers, very few stand out among the viscious spitters. Lil' Kim is known for verbally trouncing her female (and male) competition with her forked-tongued rhymes and Brooklyn wit. The Queen Bee takes no prisoners and proved it when she teamed up with fellow rappers Mobb Deep and they collectively concocted a HOT FUCKING TRACK called Quiet Storm.

I've heard Ne-Yo sprinkled throughout the radio airwaves years ago and sorta found myself bopping along to a few of his tracks. Not until he released his second album, and even better, released his first single off the album did I really begin to pay attention to him. Closer is one of those songs that are a perfect blend between lyrics and sound. It's so damned good, I work out to it. That's serious.

I have always known about Johnny Cash. I've heard his music and somewhat knew a little bit about his bio. Not until my haggy Denise sorta introduced me to him did I begin to listen with a bit more curiosity. Ring of Fire and a Boy Named Sue. Love it.

From the very beginning, I found myself mesmerized by this chick's voice. Gravely and soulful, her pipes are superb. Most importantly, Pink writes most of her lyrics and her songs display an intelligence and wisdom of someone twice her age. I feel her emotions when she sings, and that my friends, is the definition of a passionate artist.

Friday, January 23, 2009


Harmonica Sunbeam is wearing the flaming red wig. She puts Gina Divine to shame. This is what I call entertainment. Watch and learn.

Thursday, January 22, 2009



For my precious Molly who tagged me with this fine task. Forgive me for only listing 10 men. I just don't have the time for the full 20 darling. BESOS!!
First Black President. Omnipotent character and swagger. A force to be reckoned with. Spanking new leader of the free world. Though I'm still stewing over Hillary's tragic Presidential loss, I must accept what has become the inevitable and embrace this remarkable man.


For those who don't know who Wanda Wisdom is, all you have to do is drag your pathetic cursor towards your address bar and type in or... you can just click the fucking link. I've never laughed so hard in my life. His videos are entrancing and his podcasts are my definition of knee-slapping hysteria. Love him.


Humor is everything to me. I live and breathe comedy. Just ask my sisters and they'll tell you that I, along with my younger sister Lilly, have been a devilish comedy duo since we were knee-high to a grasshopper. Richard Pryor personifies everything that I find humorous and risque. Ripping to shreds anything that is currently out now, Richard was truly ahead of the pack. Lilly and I stand on his shoulders with great pride.


Underground "Ballroom Battles" and "Ballroom Dance Clubs" have been around in the gay club scene since the 80's. These men frequent these New York clubs and make a name for themselves by "battling" other drag queens in the center of parque dance floors while swishing and swaying towards a coveted trophy. These bitches get viscious and drama ensues. Youtube Miss Harmonica to witness and understand the fabulousness.


To Wong Fu, Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar etched in stone my love and admiration for John. His one-man Broadway shows caught my attention many years ago and the above mentioned movie completely lassoed me in. A Colombian and Puerto Rican couple reproduced and created one of the most talented hispanic actors in my lifetime.


Bill Clinton popped my voting cherry back in 1992 and I've had a special relationship with Billary ever since. Sweeping away the humongous fucking mess that George Bush senior left behind was no easy task, but Bill (and Hillary) were the original campaigners of CHANGE and cleaned house. Before Barack abused it as his slogan, there were the Clintons. Check back at some of the old campaign footage of Billary in '92 and you will see the multitude of signs and billboards with the word CHANGE. I have fond memories of the 90's and appreciate every law he passed under his tenure. Ground-breaking policies (except for "Don't ask don't tell") and sexual promiscuity kept me glued to my newspaper for years.


The Mamas and The Papas. Ahh... the sweet audible heaven of their melodic masterpieces. Denny not only sported one of the most gayest hairstyles to date, he was also the genius behind the arrangement and lyrics of most of their albums. Mamma Cass Elliott (who did not in fact choke on a ham sandwich) had a torrent, mystifying relationship with Denny. Denny however, crossed lines and became smitten with peer band member Michelle Phillips, who was married to John Phillips, who was also a song writer in the band. Drama. I love it.


Jaws. Close Encounters of the Third Kind. E.T. Schindler's List. I can go on. Cinematic Candy. Much respect.


Star Wars. Enough said.


Francisco Goya's art has always captured my third eye and his dark, jarring images are like a pleasant splinter in my psyche. Twisted Spanish genius.

Sunday, January 11, 2009


I've contemplated on whether or not I should give blogger another chance regarding the notion of regularly posting again. I have come to a realization that upon reading my blogging archives, I truly do miss it all. I'd have to say though that mostly, I miss my blogging buddies.

October of 2007 was the last time I posted and frankly, it feels like an eternity has passed. I can't even conjure up the words that are needed to describe the adventures I've been through since I last posted. Lots has happened but I'm not going to talk about it here, as there is nay enough space to jot it all down. Honestly though, do you care? Really?

My sister Natalie has been pressing me to again return to my blog. Her encouragement, along with my fellow bloggers, have sparked that little fire inside of me which I thought blew out a while ago. Who knew?

If I had to mention what I missed most about blogging it would have to be the warm, intelligent circle of friends I've gained since The Maverick Life's inception, coupled with the usual hag posts starring the one and only Denise. Although my visits to Denise's house have become few and far between, I emphatically miss documenting our interludes. I'm back bish!!

To my HAGGY, Boob Lady, Molly, M-filer, Emma, Wat, Marko and my other blogging crew (and Natty), I will regularly return and drop a few love bombs for those who still care to read. Love you bitches...
Crazy Eddie