FHC’s resurrected blog

In which FHC evokes the challenges of matchmaking

Setting people up with each other is usually a very difficult exercise. However it is a necessary one in a world were relationships only go beyond 4 months if there is some financial interest at stake (the gay world that is). As Kevin D. recently pointed out to me (he definitely is THE “relationship guru” around here), the purpose for the matchmaker is usually to streamline his social life by creating strategic pairs of friends which will maximize his social experience while minimizing the time he has to spend on it. I believe that it can also be motivated by the wish to keep some of his close friends sufficiently busy in a disastrous relationship so that they won’t even think about calling him for a little while. I personally like to matchmake people that are already in a relationship as I am a bit of a home wrecker on my spare time: the ideal matches to me would be Ari S. and Alex S., LL and Cub or FHC. and Greg H. On the other hand, the purpose for the matchmakees is to alleviate his tremendous loneliness and constant fear of death. The matchmakees are usually desperate cases which have so many flaws that they really need the matchmaker’s guarantee (a bit like when you rent an apartment in NYC and your mother has to sign that she’s on the hook for anything you owe and can be sued or when Rodolphe B. implies to his preys that I am his brother) to have the smallest chance to score. They also have such a bad reputation, alcohol problem or/and a dilapidated body that they cannot recourse to the usual dating techniques such as cruising bars, naked movie night, sending weird messages to strangers on friendster, working out at Results, registering on Christian Single Dating Websites (why is there so many of them?) or going to private parties (I was never really introduced to any of my past boyfriends: I just got cracked out on a dance floor and they appeared).

The main problem with matchmaking is that it often shows to your single friend how little you think of him and how odd you believe his tastes are. I myself failed many couples in the past years such as Jim M. and Frif T., Daniel B. and Frif T., LL and Frif T. (what’s wrong with Frif T. one may wonder?). Thank god there is always new meat in the DC market and thousands of little gay interns are dying to climb the social ladder would it only be for the summer.

In which FHC evokes the possibility of a world without indie boys

You’ll have to excuse me as I just woke up from a two days long coma which was only induced by my summer-ale lethargy (still better than Kevin W. who managed to be paralytic for a few hours this week-end I hear). LL and I went to Taint on Sunday night as a last attempt to spice up our social life. I love Taint: everyone is so much tinier and paler than everywhere else there (besides Girard, Ari S. and Andy L. of course but they don’t count as to be an indie kid you have to be younger than 28): indie boys are just plain adorable. The attempt was a complete failure though. First my boyfriend doesn't believe in dancing, because he would rather study the Law and secondly because, about an hour after we arrive, I started thinking about what would happen if the all place went in fire. Totally killed it. That would be such a disaster. There are a lot of memorable characters in DC, but few as lovable as the delicate and unintuitive Taint’s crowd. First we would lose Karl who represents the entirety of the “alternative crowd” of Washington, DC (if any) and the Petworth neighborhood advocates, all the indie scenesters and their down to earth cute little assistant friends, at least half of the MNDC members, 5 gay dwarves, 3 punks, some f***ing two steppers, and in that specific case a third of Lizzard Lounge’s usual clientele (the cheap third which couldn't come up with the new $15 admission cover). Imagine the hysteria. Nothing would be left of gay DC besides a crippled Kevin W., a few wealthy crack heads and half of the city’s lawyers would be reduced to ashes. I laughed a little nervously with Drew W., tiptoed on the dance floor two minutes while LL was reading an article on liability issues in computer security at the bar, drunk two beers and then we returned home and watched some Lost episodes which make up so well for a disastrous social life! Also we learnt that evening from Summer Camp about the upcoming Crack DC which seems to be yet another cheerful event.

In which FHC does some gay kayaking

The blog is going to be quite short as we just returned from very campy day adventures which took place next to the Billy Goat Trail (yes once again – I should really add love the outdoors on my online profile(s)). Ryan T. has just bought a Kayak on LLBean.com and we all got to ride in very mild rapids with him. I even swam for a little in that much polluted river of yours which is probably not going to help that big fungal problem of mine. There was definitely a dark charming sexual undertone to the entire trip as it also included this new kid Jon, Murky Mark and Kevin. I really regretted that our camping plan for the Week-End collapsed. We of course spent most of the lunch talking about the strangest place we ever masturbated at. I always found that there's something very exciting about camping among young (some younger than others I must admit) gay men in the summer heat. It might be this certitude that one way or another we will all end up naked in a giant orgy or just the fact that it is common knowledge that outdoors make gays really horny. I was telling LL that I believe this must have been the most virile activity we have done since we went on this aromatherapy retreat in Lake Tahoe last spring. Next we should definitely try shot-gunning some deer on the trail.

No Man is an Island

  Other than calls from FHC, my cell phone hasn’t rung since SET called at 5.21.2006 at 12.43pm.  I’ve gotten one or two text messages here and there, mostly from Nick D. who was just using me to get information or people like Ben T. who text only to explain why, after listening to voicemails I’ve le ft for them, they’re not able to call me back.  The text message “I can’t hang out with you and FHC” excuses range from “I’m in LA LA land” (yes, Ben, we know) to “who is this anyway?”  We even had a camping trip for this weekend that was “cancelled” – it wouldn’t sound so fishy if Kevin D. hadn’t packed his tent, sleeping bag, condoms and birth control pills before disappearing for the weekend.  When we go out (with our Mark H. since we have no gal pals of our own), the only people we bump into are current UPenn students born in 1990.  Even our attempts to fish for friends haven’t been successful; after pretty much begging Cub B. to play with us, all FHC got was a short message: “Mucho thanks for the b-day shout-out on le blog.”  Yeah, thanks is right.
With this absence of social companions, FHC and I are left to – gasp – spend all our time together.  We’ve been obsessively watching the first season of “Lost” from Netflix, and by “watching” I mean fast-forwarding through the boring parts and slowing down whenever we think we might get to see Ian S. shirtless.  We’ve also been trying to do more “sports,” or really FHC goes to Results each night to catch a glimpse of the new twinks in town and I pretend to go jogging with him but last for about 20 minutes before collapsing and wishing I’d stayed home to do laundry instead.  Tomorrow we’re going outlet shopping for pants, since “business casual” doesn’t mean jeans and a polo.  Oops.

In which FHC confirms a peculiar fact about Frenchmen

I didn’t shower today. Well let me amend that statement: I haven’t showered since yesterday morning (even if some may have spotted me at Results yesterday with dearest Rodolphe B.). This is the first of a series of incivility strikes I have imagined to show my opposition to further drilling in Alaska natural conservation area, globalization and AIDS (also I stayed a little on the shore next to the shower this morning and the water looked really cold). It worked out so well that my friend and colleague Madalina P. e-mailed me to say “You looked like a rebellious preppy young man […] today. ;)”. I love it, even when I do political activism; I still look preppy and filthy rich. And tomorrow, I’ll be vegetarian all day.

It is very unclear what LL and I are going to do of that long week-end which is coming up. All these hours of shared freedom make me really anxious. The camping trip we had planned for this Sunday just collapsed due to the fact that my roommate is a big HOMO. I should probably announce to LL that I joined the Naked Movie Night club - a charming non-denominational local social association around the Dupont area - and that we are meeting tonight.

Friendster completely changed his design and that got me really confused. Still browsing around, I came to conclude that this guy’s girlfriend is up for a bad surprise.

In which FHC writes an open letter to all FSLs out there

Dear Miss Manners: Do you have any suggestions on how to tell people to stop talking to me in their broken French?

From time to time random people who took French for a year in college and collected a few C- ask me to “talk to them in French”. They are either very naïve people who assume that I would be thrilled and genuinely honored to converse with them in their appalling French or ruthless people who see an opportunity to get a French lesson for free (some are even rude enough to ask me to “correct their French when necessary”). It usually warrants an aggressive and patronizing response: “unfortunately I am afraid I might have forgotten my French by now” or “please do talk to me in French but if you don’t mind I’ll reply in English”. It even once happened to me in bed (when I was still frequenting very trashy Virginia boys) to be summoned to say something in my native language and Kevin D. asked me to put post-it on every object in our house with their French translation. Comment dit-on "give me a f***ing break" en Francais? I AM NOT YOUR F***ING PENPAL.

I know what you think: Shouldn’t he be more understanding being himself a very poorly talented ESL and a bad immigrant? Well first of all French is one of these languages which do not tolerate a foreign accent or the slightest mispronunciation (which is why we never acknowledge the existence of Quebec without giggling). You see English by becoming the common language of this century accepted to be chronically mispronounced, French didn’t. Secondly I went through the hardship of learning (more or less) your language and now that we can communicate in an almost satisfactory manner I really don’t see any reason to support your – very limited – language skills. Thirdly I am actually very fluent in French and really don’t need to practice it anymore at that point. Fourthly, I very much doubt that you’ll ever master that complex language so I really don’t see the point. Let alone the fact that Miss Manners says we speak English in the US and French in  France. I am sorry I just don’t have the patience and I don’t even appreciate the effort. The truth might very well be that I want to be the unintelligible one – it gives me an edge. Please spare me the boredom and spare yourself the embarrassment, let’s stick to English for now. The only one I might agree to teach a few tricks is dearest LL, if he promises to teach me Yiddish.

In which FHC briefly evokes gummy coke bottles and “the irony of life”

As I had to do a little operation with my e-mail archives today, I ended up going through some of my past e-mails. It is an amazing time we are living on with all these electronic permanent records of our lives building up; there is no way to escape the irony of life anymore. We have all access to our own little history of love, betrayal, our mighty hopes, crushed desires and constant mistakes. As an example I rediscovered while scanning through some past e-mails the fact that I called my first boyfriend “nono” (before I called him “f*ck face” I guess) and another one “Bradley”. I noticed that in one of my first e-mail to Rodolphe on 07/01/2001, I addressed him as “Mickey” (when we were young and relaxed - I have known the kid for 5 full years) and that Alex S. wrote to me on 03/24/2004 “How bout tuesday, lil buddy?” as well as some old pictures. My only regret is that I could not figure out what I did with that cute jumper I was wearing (how original are those footsteps print ?).

Ok I am in a hurry to go to some PTA meeting at the firm LL is interning at. I’ll take this opportunity to brief LL’s supervisor on his diet. I hope there will be a “Talent Show” (law school nerds are good at that). I also expect that they will announce that we are invited to a Week End in the Hamptons. Perhaps they will even have gummy coke bottles… (doubtful, particularly as I have never seen such an item on any buffet in the last 5-6 years). Well at least I will have missed Kevin D.’s barbecue and the Wednesday night diner club.

In which FHC watches TV like your average neighborood fag

I started to watch the first episodes of the first season of the LOST serie yesterday night (over a year after everybody in the US is done with it. What do you - spoilt brat people -watch these days?) in a last desperate attempt to drag LL in middle age with me. I usually feel that entertainment for entertainment’s sake (such as the smurfs) leaves me feeling empty a bit like after I masturbate: I like TV with a hidden message about Christ, hope or even redemption as well as a few hints on how to improve my suburban life. Fortunately we learnt a few things yesterday such as the need to fasten one’s seatbelt to avoid being kicked out of planes, the reason why everybody is looking for half naked pictures of Ian Somerhalder as well as ideas on what to loot for after a plane wreckage. Cable TV and a consistent wireless internet are the last fortresses to resist my totalitarian self-indulgence.

In other news, dearest Stefan (another quarter-life crisis candidate whom I am plotting to use to dethrone Mark H. in his murky disastrous relationship with my roommate) and I went to see the gorgeous MOSSAD agents displayed by the white house in the honor of Ehud Olmert’s visit at lunch time. It’s not a political statement but these kids are fierce. My only disappointment is that they all wear these ugly quicksilver sunglasses which were fashionable more than a decade ago. Last but not least I’d like to say how much I hate 6:30 pm invitations which require“casual attire”, this is just plain ridiculous: what do they think? That I have sweat pants hanging in my office?

I have a dream of a world in which we would all drive zipcars. Have a nice evening and see you at the Gym.

In which FHC publicly discloses his CVS shopping list

First of all, here at FHC’s we’d like to wish a happy birthday to Cub (not the giant panda one, the gay one). He might have a slightly ridiculous name and an hyperbolic friendster profile but he is such a good old chap, and a minor royal character loyal to his country, his home, Alex S. and his God, that LL and I were thinking that maybe he could become the “summer friend” we so badly need. We need more meaty acquaintances. As we often say in DC “Holding a cub is an extraordinary experience and worth all the effort (and cost)”. Actually I have the feeling that viviblurry ran into Cub at a party this week-end most probably in the Dupont area.

Besides this important piece of news, today’s entry is going to be quite meek as the most interesting of my activities today, besides watching 20 minutes of girls soccer on ESPN, was to purchase cosmetics online. As I am sure you are dying to know what it entails, here it is: about $40 of ZIRH Refresh, some stuff from Kiehl’s (mostly because LL claims that Kiehl's is just crappy stuff in pseudo scientific containers… he apparently prefers to buy CVS generics) including the All-Sport Muscle Rub (because I am a jock), the overpriced but addictive Abyssine Eye Cream and the all sport everyday Shampoo and finally I might have added some stuff to whiten my teeth on drugstore.com. We might want to find a better way to keep me alive as it is very costly.

Also my worse fear about LL dumping me as soon as he would become financially successful (or at least sustainable) materialized, it has been less than a day he started his summer associate professional life and we haven’t heard anything from the bastard…. Or maybe he just got into a traffic accident with a blind person like he did last year.

In which FHC gives the top ten reasons why he is an asshole

Lately we have heard a little more than usual people giving us feedback that the name FHC in this city is often associated with the words “bad attitude”, “awful reputation” and “asshole”. As we are very curious here at FHC’s, we asked Pedro and Maria to go around the block and asks people why they think FHC is an asshole. After dismissing the ambiguous (and often undocumented) answers such as “I think FHC is an asshole because I know he is an asshole”, “FHC is an asshole because he sucks his moms dick all the time”, “FHC is clearly not a follower of Christ”, and the very deep “FHC is an asshole because he’s a fat midgetish gay kid” here is some of the most interesting answers we obtained (presented anonymously):

Reason #1. There is a strong rumor that FHC tried to kill his own boyfriend by force-feeding him an entire tablet of Xanax when he was drunk. He also has been promoting actively meth to him as an allergy medicine. All of that supposedly just because the poor kid couldn’t help but wear black flip-flop for one of their outings. Supposedly he also smacked his niece against a coffee table and injured a colleague with a stapler this year.

Reason #2. Each time FHC is caught his hand in the cookie jar; he alternatively uses the expressions “jewish conspiracy”, “group sex” and “lactose intolerance” to justify his acts. In my opinion, that sucks balls.

Reason #3. With FHC you graduate very quickly from “best friend of the week” to “jerk of the month” and from “cool roommate” to “here ! take that plate full of pasta in your f***ing face”. FHC’s entire social network is composed of “former friends” and his favorite sentence is “That‘s the end of our relationship”.

Reason #4. FHC does not really have any strong political, religious or ethical belief and seem to only care about himself. In other words he is a selfish bastard who never ever gives back to the community or only in a very accidental manner (to get rid of small change as an example). He is also so vain that he even thinks this blog is about him.

Reason #5. FHC wrote awful things about some fellow gay immigrants whose only fault was to be unstylish. He also constantly makes smartass sarcastic comments on his closest acquaintances.

Reason #6: FHC is an asshole because he likes to get licked AND therefore belongs to three online communities that, we hear, he visits daily. Basically, he is a sick pervert and is even friend with Rodolphe B. part time.

Reason #7: FHC abused 7 generations of boyfriends and subsequently three of his exes are currently in what looks like a terrible professional haze, two of them are seriously balding and one of them is working in the porn industry. None of them talk to him and some still send him dead birds through the mail every Valentine’s day. He also badmouthed them on many occasion (including in his trashy blog) after their break-up and broadcasted their sexual habits and cosmetics preferences as if it was public information. What a f***er.

Reason #8: FHC is a fuck***g snob. He just turned his back on flip-flops, is known to use contemptuous language with people whose parents live in trailers, he also considers all Americans to be “peasants” and always has a handkerchief sprayed with Penhaligon’s in his pocket in case he “runs into poor people”.

Reason #9: FHC is fundamentally misanthropic; he hates all kind of non-asynchronous conversation and pretends he cannot speak a word of English to avoid human interaction. He is a human-hating cunt in need of therapy.

Reason #10: FHC beats his mum.

You too can contribute to the 2006 Grand contest “why is FHC such an asshole”. Send your answers to [email protected] and you could win LL’s full custody. The FHC is an asshole contest (the "Contest") is organised by FHC’s resurrected blog ("le blog") and managed by Pedro and Maria (hereinafter collectively referred to as "the Mexican immigrants"). Participants are taking part in this contest at their own risk and we will not be liable if they are not happy after they win LL’s custody because i) he studies all the time, ii) he has a bad case of internalized homophobia, iii) he moves a lot in his sleep, iv) he does not cook or clean, v) he only talks about Law School, vi) he is “friend” with Ben T. etc…etc….