FHC’s resurrected blog

In which FHC is still unbearable

Who said: “life is about going on friendster and judging people on their vacation pictures”?. Well I must be mistaken because that’s how I spent most of my Friday afternoon instead of blogging like a good French boy or finishing that Fountainhead book I have been dragging for months for that matter. The truth is that I find there is something indecent and fascinating in the way we portray ourselves through our friendster picture (and consequently what self-image and issues we publicly admit having) and even worse the caption we design for it. As an example you can always assume that someone who puts pictures of himself in front of different monuments in the world is going to be the dullest and less worldly person you’ll ever meet or at least that he feels he isn’t sufficiently cultured. Someone who has picture of himself drinking expensive Champaign on a wooden sailboat will be jersey trash. The goal is to find this little space between what they obviously want you to think of them and what they think of themselves: that’s where the real friendster is. Like today I read this great caption on a friendster picture: “Heineken Regatta - Somewhere bt. St. Marteen and St. John USVI” which left me a little startled. Take my case, I would deduce from the 40 pictures or so of FHC smiling by himself that I have on my profile that I am a lonely self-absorbed mothefr**cker who tries to trick people into thinking that he is a happy camper. If you want to start that game, start with something easy…what does Mark H.’s profile tell us besides the fact that he should quit smoking?.

In other news of relative interest, earlier today I noticed with great staisfaction a rise in the number of visits on my blog motivated by the google search “Congressional Page Handjob”. Do you think I could take Tennis classes somewhere around here ? See you in Columbia Heights at Russ.

In which FHC has two thoughts on his way out

Ok kids … I am a little late on the blogging side. A friend of mine got badly beaten up on a small street just above U Street on his way back from Adam’s Morgan a week ago. Once again the attacker continued to beat him after he gave both his wallet and cheap cell phone. It must be the third time I get to write about that kind of accident in or around Dupont in the last six months. This worries me because I am pretty sure that I am next on the list. Has DC always been a terribly dangerous city or is it just getting worse? Are the DC thugs particularly preying on meek homos?

When I read statistics like “…by the year 2050, some 6 billion people--representing two-thirds of humanity--are expected to be living in towns and cities”, it seems to justify our existence and the theory that Homosexuality is a natural evolution for our specie. Clearly we have reached a point where not all human beings are called to procreate. Homosexuality is the environmentally friendly sexuality. It is the recycling of the bedroom.

In which FHC pops half Xanax

I have noticed that even after my valiant efforts in refurbishing my friendster profile with new old pictures under favorable lighting and after eliminating all traces of LL, I have managed quite logically to increase the number of visits. Yet the ratio of contact per lacoste-wearing click is very weak and around 0.05% [Frenchbenj charitably sent me a smile]. In marketing the logical conclusion would be that either the product has an internal defect or the advertising is just not well targeted. On the other hand, I get a lot of messages on Myspace but everybody looks like they either have participated to a murder rampage or plan to. I have never seen as many weirdos as there is on my profile, the Sigma Alpha Epsilon kind which google “Arlington, VA coke for handjob” and end up on my blog…the Mark H’s kind if you allow me. People who write “*wink*” in e-mail messages. You know what I am talking about. I have yet to meet a decent person, besides myself and Justin Timberlake, on myspace.

In other news, it looks more and more like I could be moving on Kalorama st. in early November which would leave me a month to clean-up my lifestyle before my mother comes over. Apparently, I’ll get cable and wireless internet which should more or less make up for everything I lose in the Remove-FHC-From-Our-Lives process. Perhaps I’ll even cancel my National Fitness Network membership and become a proud MINT member. Also you are lucky, Mrs. Plucky, because dearest ex-LL volunteered to blog tomorrow. Also I have been cracking down on this little sleep problem, one half alazolam (don’t know the strength…or don’t want to know) at a time and it seems to also have solved my Borderline Personality Disorder problem, too bad it wasn’t prescribed to me.

In which FHC is late

At my hair salon, you can have your shoes shined. I don’t. I find it degrading both for me and the shoe shiner. Alternatively I have no problem having someone fill my rental car with gas mostly because I refuse to be directly linked to curb carbon dioxide emissions. Strange uh? Makes you meditate. Doesn’t it now?

I have taken on a new activity: pillaging people friendster’s profile for ideas of movies (now that Facebook is being sold for $1 bn I feel less guilty to be such an online wh*re). Not people really: trendy people…no…let me rephrase that…pretty people (on the wicked assumption that pretty people have good cinematographic taste ?). I got “Felini's Satyricon + Cassanova = heaven” and Malena for a start. However, I could not add the “Scarlet Empress” to my netflix because it’s just not what netflixers are into (netflixers are just not pretty people). Of course one cannot always be lucky when browsing friendster for movie ideas.

Ari invited me to be a Pink Martini fan tonight at GW (ok…and…yes I lied… I am not in NYC tonight). I am late.

In which FHC watches yet another movie

Yesterday I watched “Crimes and Misdemeanors” with Kevin D. (Kevin D. likes Woody a lot because M. Allen is too a failed clarinet player), which I found a somewhat serious piece for a Woody Allen movie: some depressed middle-aged women is even murdered at one point. Isn’t it amazing how Woody Allen used to exclusively play unbearably neurotic characters (a jealous, quasi-cultured, insensitive, whining and unsuccessful documentary filmmaker for instance) in all of his movies? It is also quite unfortunate that lately he has taken on playing cuter parts instead like this charming old magician in his last movie. Self deprecating humor, something most gay men in DC lack completely, is of course the funniest kind (I mean Woody Allen is all over the definition of “Joke” in Wikipedia…it says it all…my personal favorite is “The only difference between sex and death is, with death you can do it alone and nobody's going to make fun of you”). However, one would imagine that this constant public self-deprecation would burden one’s personal life … not to the point of sleeping with one’s own daughter or anything but still…quite a burden. After all, we are told Woody Allen is not exactly what one would imagine based on the way he is portrayed in his own movies (NDLR: read the Unruly Life of Woody Allen). I like to assume that this is the reason why vividblurry eventually interrupted his blog: so that he could become more easily something else than a negative immature alcoholic wh*re and marry his Soon-Yi. I also like to fool myself in thinking that this is probably the reason why Drew W. would not let me drive his car, that Rudy believes I am obsessed with getting laid these days or that Alice B. assumed I was into “Project Runway”. Then maybe it’s all really justified.

In other news, LL, who is visiting DC for a few days, and I are celebrating our three weeks of break-up this evening at an undisclosed location. Also I really like this song by Belle and Sebastian called “Dress up in you”. I also downloaded porn on my ipod yesterday.

In which FHC had something worth speaking about for once

I knew I had forgotten something today. Kevin D., quite the gentleman as usual, just wrote me “Hey FFace, your blog IS LATE!”. At least I know that someone out there LOVES me. One reader believes that when I have no time to blog (and incidentally no time to spend my daily income on useless e-bay WWII memorabilia or answer Kevin W’s awfully cheerful e-mails – what does he have to be happy about?), it means that I actually have a life. I feel it’s not that true: it usually coincides with the days when I think about throwing my helmetless bicycling body under a fire truck or moving back to Luxembourg. In any case, my life is uneventful as used to say Smith of his maritime career before he eventually became Captain of the Titanic. This being said, I just received a call from Clint M. (ex number four) and I am on my way to dine with Rodolphe B. so I might have something to write about tomorrow… if you behave nicely. Not that an uneventful day has ever stopped me to blog….I actually wanted to tell you today about the fact that it has been two weeks that we fired the cleaning lady and that I am seriously thinking of moving to the Four Seasons… Oh, I almost forgot LL wanted you to know about “borrowing” wireless internet. You cannot say I treat you poorly.

In which FHC celebrates Bastille Day early

LL has been pretending today that he is the “Tiers Etat” which he actually spells “Troisième Etat” showing once again how little he knows about French history and language, how little he cares and how little he saw when he was in Paris over Christmas…but then he was sick because of “Foie Gras”. LL is so “Frenchness crippled” that if he was French he would surely be French Canadian and if he was a pastry he would be a doughnut. Anyway, the kid has been complaining because part of his boyfriend job description includes doing FHC’s boat reservations (zipboat does not have an online system yet) and that he has been asked to remedy to his rat-packing habit at home. He threatens us with a revolution over the sacred institutions of our relationship, I quote: “I'll do all the revolting, MBCP”. ggoooooooo LL gooooooooooooo ... Another valet revolution is brewing in the dark corners of the Corcoran retirement House which is a bit strange when you know the numbers of applications for boyfriendship we receive every week: the job is in HIGH DEMAND. Clearly we are going to have our little counter-revolution, a behead your boyfriend party and a disembowelment after-party tonight if he does not calm down. I’ll be the French revolutionaries and you be Marie-Anoinette. I’ll storm your Bastille too…. your impure blood is soaking my furrow. To paraphrase Susan Anthony “Resolved, that the sodomites in 2006, have greater cause for discontent, rebellion and revolution than the men of 1789”. This is so much more interesting than what I wrote last year (yes the blog is also one year old and nobody congratulated him). Let's go Fatherland's children… the Glory day has come…

In other news and as a follow-up to yesterday entry, I am a little afraid that Israel might decide to invade Italy over the week-end. My mornings are just a serie of embarrassing elevator’s moments these days. An online community we all want to join. Fake gay news. Also someone told me that all zipsters are suckers and that you can rent a car at Enterprise for a mere $30/week-end without the infamous zipcar attitude. I read the President’s advice for not being fat.

In which FHC regrets the increasing violence in DC

Today I received a very serious announcement by some acquaintance of mine telling me: “As I phase out friendster, and join the rest of the world on MySpace, I guess wanted to make sure that you were too”. Soon Cub and Kevin D. will be the only ones left on friendster cruising empty profiles for eternity. My main activity today was to purchase online stocks of Clean & Clear "Oil Absorbing Sheets” as recommended by Fagat during his Washington, DC 2006 Tour. A must for all of you, my dear shiny foreheads faggots out there.

Our friend Juan V. was robbed of his cell phone in the street by 7 “teens” (PC) on Crescent Street (2 blocks from U) on Tuesday night. He was kicked in his delicate rib-cage and his face would also have been badly messed up if he hadn’t managed to escape and take refuge at 1661 Crescent (right in front of our favorite zipcar actually). This is one of numerous similar stories I have heard lately and it just sucks: when you know how much energy we spend improving our physical appearance, it's really not ok to have it destroyed by urban violence.

In other news it is indeed true that the Mozambican flag has a Kalashnikov on it as stated in Lord of Wars – a terrible movie we watched yesterday evening. LL and I do not understand why “Lost” is unfairly ill-considered this year. Kevin W. called me a little punk because I began to tell the gruesome details of his “love-life”(sic). Talk about déclassé. Ok I have to hurry as we are going evening sailing with Ari S: I wonder if one is expected to tip his boat boy at the marina.

In which FHC would be preppy if he was slim

First of all let me wish you a happy 4^th. One may really wonder if God is not trying to tell something to the American population by sending such a terrible thunderstorm on Independence Day and letting the Korean successfully launch their long range missiles but I’ll let you meditate on this by yourself. Today was just plain charming and LL and Fagat decided to give me a little initiation to Tennis in Georgetown of all places. Tennis, I am told, is the preppiest sport after sailing, hunting, sodomy and golf and indeed matches perfectly LL’s numerous Lacoste shirts (btw seen at Halo yesterday night: little john wearing a polo size 16). It would all have been a very “Tennis chic” day if the pictures had not shown once again that we have a lot of work to do on our upper body. It all ended with an interview with Thomas B., charming as usual, at Trio’s. I now must leave you as we have to hurry to Ryan T.’s party to see the firework and cute shirtless homos. That is what the US are about afterall.

In which FHC once again does not blog

Yeah well I did not blog today (but what did YOU do for your country?) so we kindly suggest our beloved readership to follow’s Kevin M.’s advice and visit this blog as well as this futbol link (courtesy of Mark H.). You know kiddos I have been quite busy since I came back to DC mostly being briefed by Kevin D. on LL’s misbehavior (he is grounded for the long week-end and is forbidden to call Ben T. or John J. for a week), visiting my myspace account (18 years old are still the rage) as well as opening the multiple e-bay packages I received. The problem with e-bay is that the things that seemed so essential at bidding time are actually completely useless when they reach your home a week later. I brought the Che’s picture to the frame shop but still, have to figure out what to do the light blue beret I bought.

I am now waiting for LL to drive me to the first of his business dinner in which I will play the role of the jetlagged/cracked out/aging spouse. I see you tomorrow.