FHC’s resurrected blog

I don't care if it rains or freezes

We just got back from 10 days in Paris and I have nothing to blog about.  Yes, we were upgraded on the way back.  Yes, a surprising number of twinks also rode in Air France business class (and I’m not only talking about flight attendants).  Yes, we bought the latest copy of Têtu, and yes, “Chad from Portland" is cute.  How’s that for French culture.

Things I learned in Paris include the fact that the Arc de Triomphe was built by Napoleon, not the Romans, and they (please don’t ask me who) built Notre Dame in the middle ages, not the, um, Renaissance.  Oops. 

Our luggage barely made it intact: my suitcase was the last to arrive off the plane and FHC’s plastic Jesus Christ severed both arms at the shoulder heaving himself off his crucifix (as told in the text of a lesser known gospel, Tristan). Fortunately, we’re back at La Casa DC, where Kevin is reminding us of Paris by playing the oboe solos from Swan Lake while FHC dances like the ballerina he always dreamed of being.  The only way it could be more like la Francia is if we tie down the bulimic geese that live next door and force feed them until they really understand what the joys of eating are about.

Oh, and when does FHC get a book deal?  We’re looking to fly to Paris with the rich kids in business and first because our boyfriend is one of them, not because we gave head to Gregoire in the Air France lounge.

Live Blogging: LL Does Paris

What's the big deal about Paris?  So far, except for the fact that the computer keyboards are ridiculous, it's exactly like Washington; FHC bumps into his old tricks, I can't understand a word he says (in French or English), and we pretty much spend our day eating and napping.  FHC's test of his French friends is to ask whether they know who Oprah Winfrey is.  None of them have had a clue, and when he explains to them that her claim to fame, in addition to having approximately one billion dollars, was getting kicked out of Hermes for looking like a North African, their only response is <<naturellement>>.  The only difference being in Paris is that, unlike DC, this city actually is pretty so everywhere we go I have to pretend I'm appreciating the surroundings when really I'm just constantly hungry.

We spent today at the Louvre were we checked out a bunch of hot Eastern European guys checking out some Greek sculpture.  I haven't read the Da Vinci Code yet, so it's fairly difficult to understand what it's all about; the only thing I learned is that the French evidently are too sophisticated to say <<Mona Lisa>> so they call her <<La Joconde>>.  Yeah, well fine, why doesn't everyone call me Shut the Fuck Up you pretentious French fucks?  Oh, and speaking of which, everyone at the Louvre walks around with cameras.  Because none of their friends back in Maine knows what the Mona Lisa looks like.

In gay news, we spent last night at Cobalt Rive Gauche with approximately seven former DC homosexuals (they still sleep with men, only now they're all uncut.)  None of them (except RAPB, obvi) had heard of, let alone seen, Brokeback Mountain, and they all yawmed at the description of a <<gay cowboy movie>>, which only reinforced the impression that what's hot in Paris (Gérard Depardieu as Jean de Florette) doesn't nearly compare with what's hot in the US (Heath Ledger barebacking Jake Gyllenhall).

It's Christmas Time for the Outlaws

Disclaimer: Even on Christmas day LL finds a way to blog about the law...there is substantial things that jews, homos and atheists will never understand.

It’s funny that as a white Jewish male in the legal community I’m also considered a “minority.”  Seriously.  At the beginning of the semester I signed up for the “Outlaw” email list (I also considered joining our a capella group, Substantial Performance).

Obviously I was hoping that, like any online posting site, the Outlaw list would circulate requests for anonymous sex in empty classrooms and basement janitors’ closets.  Little did I know that it was actually an “intellectual community” that organized a trip to the Supreme Court to watch the Fair v. Rumseld oral arguments in person.  (Obvious joke omitted) and sponsors – get this – poster making parties to protest JAG recruiters on campus.  Let’s get real: I thought the Outlaws would be like J-Date, only more pornographic.

The benefit is that I’m now included as a “minority,” and Career Services has been sending me all sort of placement information for “students who come from populations that have been historically underrepresented in the legal profession.”  Hey, that’s me!  Oh wait, can we discuss how every lawyer I know is also a homosexual?

It also looks like they’ve anticipated the white Jewish gay men who might flock to these diversity fellowships:  “Students submitting resumes should be prepared to discuss in an interview how they can contribute meaningfully to diversity in the legal profession, particularly if it is not readily apparent from their resume.”  What exactly do they mean by “readily apparent?”  Does that mean that black people can just show up, but that I have to explain how I’ll orally service the closeted senior partners during conference calls?  Is this sort of contribution “meaningful?” 

Well, I have to go back to Christmas with the family.  Yes, the Jews are gathering around the Christmas tree to open a few more presents.

With love, always,

LL, GAY GAY GAY esq.

Why don’t I get my own blog?

Disclaimer: Here is what happened to Olliver D. when he tried to get his own blog... I hope that will help you make up your mind, traitor !

No, seriously, I’m forced to contribute to FHC’s and I don’t even get compensation.  While my life might not be nearly as hilarious as FHC’s, and although my English might not be as hilariously broken, I certainly have plenty to say.

KMZ has even proposed a possible title:  Blahblawblog (taken, of course, from everyone’s favorite probably canceled but maybe soon to be resurrected by our network the hero Showtime, Arrested Development).  Law blogs are extraordinarily popular, so much so that the Weblog Awards 2005 include a category: “Best Law Blog.”  Given this popularity, I might be able to finance my legal education with a few blogads (which is certainly more than FHC has offered to contribute).  Plus, it’s not completely unheard of for a law student to have a successful blog.  (See, e.g., http://www.ifartedintorts.blogspot.com/ 934 F. Supp. 1395 (S.D. Ga. 1996)). 

What would my blog be about, you ask?  Well, it would be about home during finals I’m constantly sweat and how after torts the entire right side of my shirt, undershirt, and sweater were completely drenched.  It would also be about how I’m accused by bloggers, commentators, and my fellow law students, of wearing the same hoodie every day.  Heaven forbid I dress comfortably.  It would also be about how I abuse free printing, and have printed about 1000 pages of notes 20 times over, and about how that contributes to the totally absurd cost of my professional education.  (Or, alternatively, am I getting my money’s worth???)  Finally, I’d blog about how I have secretly been selected as Donald Trump’s 2^nd Apprentice of the year.

LL: Monster-in-law

Disclaimer: FHC got kind of seriously sick in the stomach yesterday (some barfing may or may not have happened - the reports are not clear) drinking his usual sorrow away so he couldn’t appraise nor censor LL’s entry.

            Sometimes when I hear about life in DC I start to wonder if I should have gone to law school there instead of NYC.  Since I made my choice before I met FHC, or at least before FHC and I had  the opportunity to prostitute ourselves to each other drunkenly, I never really had the chance to doubt it was right.  Then I hear about totally fab parties like Jason’s going away celebration, and, well, I get a little nostalgic for the days when I regularly watched FHC teetering on a sidewalk, barely able to stand, pleading, “LOU, I’m wasted.  I’m so wasted.”  (No need to mention the other things that may or may not happen when there’s a wasted FHC on the block).

            Then I see articles like this: Stabbing At Club In D.C. Kills Man Death Is 2nd in '05 At NW Nightspots, and I remember that Police Chief Ramsey continues to remind us that “Crime is out of control in Washington, DC” and that it’s one the country’s most dangerous cities.  Thank god the Chief of Police doesn’t have any responsibility for solving that problem.  I guess we have no one to blame but the President.  Or urban poverty.  Fuck both of them for making DC so dangerous – I’m glad to be in New York where even our Republican mayors are really Democrats and, at times, live with gay-married couples.  And as for urban poverty, we keep that in the outer-boroughs.

            I’m more frightened, however, by imagining myself as a law student living with FHC.  Can you imagine?  I’m intolerable enough as it is – and studying for exams has made me even worse.  I  accuse animals on the street of entering into oral contracts with me and even tried to sue Christmas tree for slander.  When I almost tripped on an empty glass outside the Maritime Hotel, I shouted “THAT IS A TORT” and Costas C. ran from me and declared he never wanted to hang out with me again. 

            So really, I think it’s good for everyone involved that I’m learning the love of the law in NYC instead of DC.  This way, now when I see FHC, I can pretend to be a charming little bundle of joy, instead of the annoying self-centered prick that this semester has made me.

How the LL stole christmas

Disclaimer: here at FHC we always thought that LL was some kind of an orphan, born into dirt poverty like Oliver Twist. This all came as a big surprise...

So FHC is taking me to Paris.  All of you have been paying such close attention to us lately that I’m sure you already knew. Here’s the thing (shh…don’t tell FHC, I don’t want him to break up with me): I haven’t told my parents that we’re going yet.  Since this space is often used to slander les FHCzios, I thought I’d take a moment to confess that my family also is crazy.

I’ve already purchased my plane ticket home, but every time I talk to my family, my mother adds a tinge of Jewish guilt: “But you have two weeks off.  Why don’t you stay for longer?  Don’t you enjoy being with your family?”  (I do miss my dog). Her insistence has frightened me silly, and I can’t work up the courage to tell her that it’s not really an option since I’m spending New Years with my BF and meeting his family instead of being with my own. 

Now, my cowardice isn’t completely irrational:

Six Christmas’s ago I came out and was accused of “ruining Christmas.”  Four years later, my brother “ruined Christmas” and my mother subsequently threatened to end the holiday forever by moving to Israel (NDLR: next to Palestine).  That a Jew cares about having “Christmas ruined” is irrelevant – I simply can’t overcome my panic that once I tell her our plans, my mother will book the next flight on El Al and let’s face it, poor Ariel Sharon won’t even begin to understand the mess on his hands.

Wish me luck.  At least I’ve sent my Christmas list to Santa, so if all goes as planned, I’ll be well-dressed when I meet le family. 

Le Thanksgiving Blog

Disclaimer: LL himself just said "it's really stupid" ! WORD

Um, can we discuss how this holiday is ridiculous?  I don’t mean that in the “didn’t the pilgrims actually slaughter all the Indians after the first Thanksgiving and, in that case, why are we celebrating genocide” sort of way.

No, what I mean is that people really stretch the things for which they offer thanks.  The prime example is Mayor Michael J. Bloomberg, who, after a gigantic balloon came crashing down onto a woman and her child during the Macy’s parade causing near death, reminded us of how stupid “giving thanks” really is: “’We should be thankful none were more seriously hurt,’ Mayor Michael Bloomberg said.”  I’m sorry, but, bonjour, is that like me saying, “Dearest friends, on this holiday I’m glad I wasn’t born into poverty.  Or with down syndrome.”

Since we’re now permitted to be happy that life isn’t drastically worse, I’d like to share with you the Top Ten Things for which I Give Thanks (but for which other people are suffering)

10. I don’t live here.

9.   I’m not being indicted just so the government can detain me even longer.

8.  My bf isn’t a cross-dressing blogger moonlighting at the US Attorney’s office and embarrassing himself publicly in the New Yorker. 

7.  MS Word doesn’t keep reformatting this list so that the numbers go up, from 1-10, instead of down, from 10-1.  Ok, actually that’s something that’s really pissing me off.  

6. My mother didn’t give away her ova.

5. Nick and Jessica learned what it actually means to tie the Windsor knot. 

4. I’m not an elderly Katrina evacuee.

3. Another hurricane (hilariously called “Delta” because we’ve run out of names) is headed towards Florida.

2. At least John Kerry is good at something.

1. I’m with my bf for the holiday. 

Hints from Heloise: When a $9.99 bottle of wine just won’t cut it

Your usual disclaimer: The days get shorter and LL’s self-hating weekly entries are increasingly irreverent, I should get back on XL and he should move back to Iowa.

The first rule of the gay community is don’t ever refuse free blow, nasal or oral.  The rule was first created in the ‘70s, when FHC was young and gorgeous, because it encouraged hot, unprotected  group sex. But then came the 1980s, and the Reagan Revolution proved once and for all that drugs cause AIDS and AIDS cures fags, and self-restraint in our community became a virtue. Thank god September 11^th changed all that.  Now active cocaine use promotes social responsibility.  Here’s why:

• Those of us in the liberal, educated, bourgeois class can’t just ignore the poverty and suffering of those who the Western World has left behind.  Without cocaine, where would Maria Full of Grace get her livelihood?  If cocaine consumption dropped, how could Colombian drug mules accumulate frequent flyer miles and attain Star Alliance Elite Status?
• Cocaine as become so en vogue these days it’s even replaced a cheap bottle of Bordeaux as the obligatory house-warming or dinner party gift.  Emily Post recently argued that refusing drugs is despicably impolite, and that a host should always have a moist, monogrammed cloth ready to plug a bloody nose. 

Oh, and please, do us all a favor and make sure it’s the good stuff. 

Paris is burning !

WAIVER OF RESPONSIBILITY AND DISCLAIMER. Reading LL’s entry, like for any ivy league alumni’s thoughts, carries the risk of unforeseen psychological hazards.  "FHC’s resurrected blog" supports a policy of not knowingly posting entries that will create undue risk to the reader.  However, as some dangerous content might be slipped in by twink in résidence, it is the responsibility of the reader to conduct oneself safely and responsibly with respect to those conditions and with respect to his or her personal abilities and limitations.  “FHC’s resurrected blog” assume no liability for events which may occur related directly or indirectly to one's reading LL’s entry.

Do not let children read LL’s entries unsupervised.

This week’s “Bitch Session” in the Washington Blade included the following threat:

“To the balding little bitch who badmouths his friends in his blog: Don’t look so surprised when someone strikes back.”

Could this be a veiled attempt (a poor one, yes) to frighten FHC’s into silence?  Is Scoot-Scoot Libby finally striking back against the Frenchman who indicted him for perjury?  Does Judy Miller really still hold a grudge for the column FHC’s printed that condemned her lack of journalistic credentials and ethics?  Could Harriet Miers still be totally pissed that those of us at FHC’s derailed her nomination to the Supreme Court? 

Well, we’d like to set the record straight about whoever wrote that “bitch”:

a)      We’re not “friends”

b)      If people in DC weren’t such stupid whores, we wouldn’t need to badmouth them

In other news, FHC is sitting here reading Vanity Fair while Paris burns.

Why is life so difficult?

Disclaimer: this is another of your f**ing WE entries by LL, don't believe a word he says... he always sounds so fishy.

FHC has used his blog many times to denounce the hoards of people that companies employ for the express purpose of standing in our way. 

All of us are accustomed to the customer service represents who are there neither to help customers nor to provide service.  Take, for example, the Apple Store employee this week who accused me of wasting other customers’ time by demanding that he fix my iPod mini’s clickwheel.  God forbid I waste other people’s time.  I’m not sure if he’s aware, but he – and service representatives like him – are hired with the express purpose of wasting so much time that customers just give up and stop expecting anything whatsoever.

The real surprise this week wasn’t that a customer service rep tried to deny me service, but that my law school threatened to put a block on my record because I had failed to submit an immunology report to the health department when I enrolled.

First of all, I’m not sure what the dickens a “block” actually does, but I was sufficiently intimidated (read: panicked beyond belief) to look into the matter.  Not only that, I also had no idea what an immunology report actually is, but I assumed, since I’ve attended school without much trouble for the past 18 years, that I had one somewhere.  I downloaded the form online, and it turns out, all I had to do was send medical records that proved I’d been immunized at the age of six months against rubella, mumps, and German measles.  What the fuck are those diseases anyway?  Has anyone had “rubella” since the 19^th century?  And why stop there - shouldn’t they check my vaccinations for amoebic dysentery or the plague?

I also had a suspicion that not only had I seen this form before, but that I’d submitted it to health services months and months ago.  I called them to make sure it wasn’t an error.  Since we’re talking about a major university, I expected they would have staff on hand to deal with my questions right away.  Guess what?  They put me in a queue with horrible hold music.  After ten minutes of waiting, I decided my 1000 Verizon anytime minutes could be better spent.

I called “Kelly” in Dr. Beth H.’s office (2021 K Street, NW) to see if I’d ever requested that they send my immunology records to my school.  Why yes, she said.  In fact, the form was right there, with a note that said “faxed, May 2005.”  Would she mind resending it?  No, not at all.

Before I bore everyone to tears, I’ll just say that a) it took three tries to get through to health services and confirm that they’d received them form and b) about four hours after this whole traumatic affair was peacefully forgotten, I got the following email from academic services: "The University Health Center has placed a block on your record"

All this for $40,000.