FHC’s resurrected blog

In which FHC watch Fagat sinking

His Royal Highness’s visit in Washington, DC has been perfect so far. LL became a little frantic before his arrival yesterday afternoon and started stocking food and various supplies and baking like craziness and I had to hide an intense feeling of jealousy and betrayal. Fagat first attended an intimate dinner in the early evening which included Ari S. and Kevin D. Afterwards LL had organized a "get together" between him and some local homosexual youth at Sam K.’s birthday bash (mostly composed of Kevin D.’s exes and other related elements). At this occasion Fagat spent time in conversation with many friends of LL and gracefully paid attention to each and every guest. It all went perfectly and was even followed by an encore at Cobalt and Halo where Fagat was introduced to an astonishingly sober Kevin W. Fagat was surely impressed by the vibrant and colorful social scene of DC as well as the famous infectious “joie de vivre” of the MNDC members (including a terribly stoned Joel). I myself was in the best of moods and was hugged by both John J. and Kenneth D.

The festivities continued today with a 4 hours sailing outing. It was altogether a very uplifting yet nostalgic moment that drew on LL and Fagat’s common memories of Yale, gossips on close acquaintances and past disastrous relationships. I would have put up pictures but Fagat’s press people explained to me that shirtless pictures of him aren’t allowed anymore. Fagat will attend this evening a dinner hosted by a Wallach Place couple. This event will profile gay apparatchiks from diverse origins, confessions and age categories drawn among the wealthiest and more successful monogamous faggots in the region and will include the presence of the Gs. This will be followed by a brief apparition at Taint and potentially a demonstration of Washington, DC local dances by some butt-ugly indie boys.

In which FHC is better at sailing than driving

L and I apparently passed our sailing exam. They even gave us a very condescending paper certificate stating that we had completed the “adult basic sailing training”. The instructor unfairly screamed at me because I could not grasp the principles of “docking” and once again I felt worthless. I used Frenchbenj’s line and told him that anyway river sailing was for losers and that by the way the French, besides winning against Brazil, invented sailing which contributed to alleviate the tension in the boat. Additionally LL blew our perfect cover by squealing like a kosher pig because a miniature spider was on the raft. But overall it was hella fun and I already forgave the instructor and abandoned my initial plan to return at dawn and write “docking” with an electric carving knife on his forehead for kicks...

I just find extremely painful to learn anything new. As a matter of fact, I haven’t learnt anything in the last five years besides perhaps driving. Actually let me rethink that silly statement, I did not even learn how to drive correctly: it took me two hours to drive us back from Alexandria yesterday night after we watched “the devil wears Prada” (such a charming movie). We got lost in Anacostia in our ridiculous mini convertible and I couldn’t help but think of “The Bonfire of the Vanities".

Adult classes are so undignified. So often it is just an alternative to a real social life for the rejects of humanity and a way for retired militaries and teachers to continue being demeaning towards their inferior/less knowledgeable counterparts. Have you seen what kind of losers are in the beginner Mandarin at the YMCA? half of them have crutches. I have decided to thank LL by signing up for a knife fencing initiation in Southeast DC next week.

In other news my life is pretty miserable: I just drooled on my computer, the washing machine is not working anymore, Mike G. and Kenneth are best friends and my picture of the Kennedys arrived here broken. Thank god Fagat is coming in (LL is much more excited than he was for my return from the unnamed destination) and we are going to Sam K’s late afternoon birthday bash.

In which FHC feels a little lost

LL and I have quietly but surely progressed on the Lost thread (Season II now) yesterday until the obscenely late hour of 11 p.m. (our target is an average of 3-4 episodes a day until my departure: 2 before work, 2 after) confirming our initial impression that 'There are only two sensations associated with watching Lost: boredom and terror' [to paraphrase Orson Welles]. It’s not really an addictive show; the real problem is that we refuse to cut our losses (a bit like the Iraq issue): we have invested so much in watching season I that we cannot stop even if we are bored to tears.

But we are not completely wasting out time either. We have been extensively discussing what would be our respective behavior if we were the ones stranded on a (semi)desert island full of mean “others” and unbelievably attractive survivors. LL elected to “curl in a ball, hyperventilate and die instantly”. I personally went for a more practical “becoming Eko’s bitch”. I also started thinking of a medium-term project to take all the members of the MNDC and the Celebrity Homosexual Luncheon on a remote island populated by mysterious bisexual people and make a show out of it (I bet you that people would end up eating Gérard on the third day). Finally, I learnt a few handy tricks from the show as I am scheduled to take 6 planes in the next three weeks starting on Friday towards another unnamed destination. I will surely be analyzing each and every passenger’s movements to prepare for the terror and make sure to check out the fugitive next to the Air Marshal. I will also look out for obnoxious people acting flustered at the aiport such as patronizing Ana-Lucia.

Other perks of watching the episodes with such a strict self-discipline included a huge migraine issue, another disaster in our social life and a decreased sexual life. I hate TV.

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 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 barks

Well what do you know.... ? that could have been a better blogging day. For once I had a life, did some outdoor activities and yes maybe there wasn't time for an entry. So that's it. The half naked picture of Ian somerhalder is still up though.

In which FHC almost makes out with a middle aged ophthalmologist

I almost kissed my 45 years old ophthalmologist today. She got really close to my face to look into my eye and see if there was some kind of an infection after I complained like every six months about “having puffy eyes in the morning”. As she was leaning towards my eyes, I could feel her breathe on my mouth and her face against mine. I just felt it was the right thing to do. It was like an impulse thing: I did not plan it and wasn’t even in a “let’s kiss my doctor kind of mood” but I felt I had no other choice. In my (limited) experience, it is pretty rare that people get their face that close to yours if you aren’t going to have wild sex. She must have felt that I was going at it because she pulled away pretty fast. Of course, it was just embarrassing for everybody involved and I think I need to find a new ophthalmologist now as I fled quite abruptly without my contacts lenses on pretending that I had forgotten an important meeting. Clearly I shouldn’t have quit Propecia: I was tamer….or perhaps these are just the symptoms of my sudden Valium’s withdrawal (as sudden as my addiction actually).

In other news, I am trying to buy a small boat for cheap from a charity on e-bay on the East Coast for the summer, please don’t tell LL about it, it’s a surprise. Also please find another picture of FHC in Toga volunteered by Kevin D., you can notice how it is delicately embroidered, it must have been Versace.

I am going to the gym now but do I need to remind you that Fagat thinks you are a loser ?

In which FHC obtains Psychotropic Substances at a Pharmacy Party

Yesterday’s mandatory Wednesday turned quickly into a prescription drug giveaway extravaganza [between us the host was once said to have unintentionally tried to smuggle Rohypnol “ruffies” in the US – a real pusher]. For starters, he operated an intramuscular injection of some Vitamin B12 at dessert time in my leg (as per Baroness Thatcher’s recommendation) which went totally unnoticed [Richard R. H’s response:  Well hopefully the B12 helped with your hangover]. Then I obtained miscellaneous anti-anxiety medication coming directly from South-East Asia which I wasn’t allowed to pop at the dinner table (we have principles) because I had to keep them for when I am “really anxious”(what the f*ck does that mean? My life is traumatizing 24/7 for Chrissake). Today I brought to work a tablet of Alzolam 0.25 (the Indian version of Xanax) as it was “bring your daughter to work” day. I kept the rest of my new stash at home ready for a quick break-up, a victory of the Communist party or maybe my first zipcar DUI. Someone also said at one point “who did not hook up in the Concorde?” and went on talking about some tranny called Nexis or something.

I then announced pretty loudly that I would bring some E to the next Wednesday dinner party in complete denial over the fact that my drug dealer is now waiting in a Federal prison for up to 50 years (and not for mail fraud) which is really inconvenient for everybody involved [please send me your contact information]. The guy was very sociable, entrepreneurial and did not even propose crack among his product lines: so unfair... Not everybody is lucky enough to be able to snatch Vicodins from their roommate’s medicine cabinet (mine only has beta blockers which happens to also be welcome from time to time).

Also I think you should visit Cyberagatha, Vivdlblurry’s femalish roommate who is quite impertinent about French ladies. All that led me to think that I really need a myspace profile or I’ll die.

Finally, apparently tonight is Joel’s birthday at Hush starting at 11 p.m.: I would really be astonished if I am making it without a B12 injection (am I the only one who has a professional activity around here?) moreover because this evening I'll go on an abs mission to Results-la-Gym.

In which FHC really wonders how history will judge him

Today was the “old friends surfacing” day. Anders V., visiting from Norway, walked by my office [if you read this MegaDCFag, you're the man], Daniel P., my nerdish American U roommate called masking his number, Sam (why do gay men like to post pictures of themselves squeezing half good looking girls?) alerted me he was back in the city, and Australian James is visiting Kevin D. and we will be dining at Hamburger’s Mary tonight. Do they serve fresh asparagus salad there? I didn’t think so! I also inadvertently found a mine of [poetic] gay marines for Kevin D.’s deep dark primeval urges. I also may or may have not visited the profiles of my ex-boyfriend on friendster which led me to notice that Scott E. does not have one anymore [I wish to all of them the best]. Also Gabriel A. is being cooler than his dad.

It took me a good hour to find a Zipcar for Saturday. Can you believe that ? UNBELIEVABLE. I manage to book a Mini like last time but could not get a convertible. I was planning to go to the National Arboretum …maybe with the Watsonater …while LL will be “innocently and sweetly trying to learn about the law” or “in the library taking a practice Administrative Law examine” [Wh*re] in NYC. But I ended up thinking that it was maybe too close to Anacostia and instead we will go on the Billy Goat Trail ! This might be a blessing in disguise.

As usual thank YOU for your patronage.