fergie's Diaryland Diary
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superior gayness
To: fergie
From: Julia
Your diary is hilarious. I showed it to a friend of mine, and he was horrified that I was reading a gay diary. The line that got him the most but made me smile was "Face it breeders; anything you can do, gays can do better." I think it's good when a diary can do that to someone.
To: Julia
From: fergie
Horrified? Are you sure he's not just intimidated by my exceptional good looks and amazing grooming skills? Or is it that I have a bigger dick and can eat pussy better than him, too? Thanks for reading, hope you keep coming around for more superior gayness.
1:11 p.m. - Aug. 29, 2003
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sock orgy
Sock Orgy.
Even when people aren't stealing my underwear, my socks come up missing in the laundry. Single socks are never worn, seeing as I'm not an amputee, but I find it hard to just throw perfectly good material in the trash. You never know when their partner may return. So I've devised a solution where I don't feel wasteful and the poor single socks aren't lonely.
All my socks with respective partners are folded together and enjoy the company of one another. The loner socks, the ones that have been left by their mate for whatever reason (bad elastic between them, or perhaps one of the pair started an interracial affair with a sock of another color); all those socks are grouped together in their own little pile. It's a sock orgy. They might not get to travel as much, but I think they have more fun.
7:38 p.m. - Aug. 28, 2003
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Chop it off so they don't touch it
Chop it off so they don't touch it.
The practice of circumcision is extremely common here in the US, and most hospitals routinely perform the procedure within the first few days after a male child's birth. When my little cousin was born, his mother was a bit shocked to discover he had undergone the surgery without her knowledge. Although she had previously given her consent, it underscores the nonchalant attitude towards dick cutting medical professionals have adopted. There are of course many cultural and religious exceptions to this rule, but chances are if a male is born in the US he'll ultimately be circumcised. It's something that has been ingrained in our culture for all the wrong reasons.
The same medical professionals that perform and champion circumcision claim it promotes cleanliness and reduces urinary tract infections, even though there has been substantial contrary evidence. As a matter of fact, there's been no proof that the procedure reduces infection, the risk of penile cancer, or sexually transmitted diseases, and practicing good hygiene clearly reduces smegma, the white, waxy substance that can appear under the foreskin, often derogatorily referred to as "head cheese."
In truth, the movement started in the late 1800's as a treatment for self-abuse, or more to the point, a cure for masturbation. John Harvey Kellogg, an M.D. and co-creator of the cornflake, published a book that advocated the procedure. Apparently, the good doctor was a bit sexually repressed and felt the rest of the country should be too.
Judging from the regularity of meat whacking practiced by teenage and adult males, his theory that the pain associated with circumcision would detract men from touching themselves down there has been proven hysterically incorrect. The very notion that we shouldn't explore our bodies, refrain from sexual activity, and fear even talking about sex is completely dated. I mean, the sexual revolution gave us the freedom to approach sexuality without embarrassment or inhibition, right? Right?
Well, no. While we've made great strides, popular culture is still grounded in the same puritan mindset that founded this country. Because the practice of circumcision has been performed for so long, it has become more a matter of aesthetics and conformity. To many, foreskin is ugly, and daddy wants his little boy to look like him.
I've never given much thought to the matter, and although foreskin advocates would claim that I'm not "intact," I can't say feel any less of a man without a little flap of skin covering the head of my member. Apparently there is increased sensitivity and sexual pleasure men with foreskin experience that I do not, though I don't know how one goes about quantifying such things. My ongoing research indicates that everyone reacts a bit differently to stimulation.
Perhaps we've reached an impasse, as groups have sprung up that denounce circumcision for our young, and encourage foreskin regeneration either naturally (stretching) or surgically. Personally, aside from vigorous fucking, I have absolutely no desire for any amount of pain to be inflicted upon that region of my body, especially willingly.
However, I do believe in embracing a healthy physical mentality, so go play with yourself right now. If you're a female, I doubly encourage you to poke around your private parts. You'll be glad you did.
9:11 p.m. - Aug. 25, 2003
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solutions
Uhm, yah.
"[fergie] complained of people calling him whilst he�s asleep, and when he explains that he had been asleep, they just go on with whatever it was they wanted to talk to him about. Well, the solution to that is rather simple, actually: turn off the damn ringer."
- Cadwaladr
As I explained in my entry, I answer the phone as it may be business related. The solution is simple, actually: basic reading comprehension.
The point is that I shouldn't have to turn of my ringer. Be it an ill timed phone call, keeping others waiting by being late, or holding a door for two seconds so it doesn't slam in the face of the person behind you, there is such a thing as consideration for others.
10:31 p.m. - Aug. 24, 2003
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Anything you can do, gays can do better.
Hello America, the gays are here to take over.
We're winning millions on your popular reality shows, and breaking ratings records with style and culture tips for the straight masses.
Laws are changing in our favor, too, even though there is a large movement to legally discriminate against our right to marry. We really don't care. We're just going to continue being our fabulous selves, take your money, and make our own rules.
Face it breeders; anything you can do, gays can do better.
1:11 p.m. - Aug. 24, 2003
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Zzzzzzz
I've had this happen several times this week; while blissfully asleep and dreaming away, a friend or relative calls and wakes me up. The only reason I pick up is because I'm already awake and the call might be important or work related. Upon telling the caller I was asleep, instead of saying they'll call back later or ask me to call them when I'm fully awake, they launch into a long-winded story of some sort, going on and on about who the hell knows what. I'm far too groggy to pay attention.
A few times I've just gone back to sleep with the other person still on the line. I hung up in the middle of the (one sided) conversation once, but the person called back saying we must have gotten cut off. No, I hung up on you. I told you I'm sleeping mother fucker!
4:20 p.m. - Aug. 23, 2003
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job things
"Oh, I don't know, those job things really take such a chunk out of your day."
- Papa fergie, on getting a 9-5.
7:47 p.m. - Aug. 21, 2003
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fergie gets eaten by a giant spider
I had a dream last night that the other fergie and I had a reality show in New York that followed our adventures during fashion week. The series, called "Fabulously Fergie," captured the emotional ups and downs of being ludicrously rich and the high pressures of being one of the social elite. The Duchess, it seemed, had taken me under her wing after she came across this diary by searching "fergie" on google and finding my site at the top of the return list.
Due to security reasons, she actually lived downstairs from me, and when Jai from "Queer Eye" came up to the loft to visit me they thought he was an assassin. To stop the security guys from taking him, we had a dance/strip off, but were interrupted by screams from Sara and had to save her form a giant spider.
I wouldn't be too surprised if my dreams eventually have commercial breaks.
5:35 p.m. - Aug. 20, 2003
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links
Haven't been online for a couple of days, can't say that I've had any feelings of withdraw, though. Usually I start to shake after a few hours.
I've been updating the LINKS page more this month. Yea me.
Now you can meet your neighbors online so you never actually have to interact with them in person! I saw a review of this site a few months ago, but never downloaded the application. Basically, you log on and it tells you where people are closest to you that share common interests, etc. I have a few issues with privacy on the net. Mainly, that it doesn't exist. I don't know if I want people to be able to track my location within Los Angeles.
Fascinating bio on the completely fictitious life of Raymond Burr.
Now six years after this gay author took his own life, his book Testosterone is being made into a major feature film with Antonio Sabato, Jr. and Jennifer Coolidge.
Got email? I do. After just a day or two away from the computer, I have about fifteen zillion emails sitting in my inbox. After a botched attempt with Outlook on my computer (never installs correctly and eventually disconnects my dial up when in use), I may start using something like this.
2:42 a.m. - Aug. 20, 2003
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blackout
"Three Ohio failures caused power outage. Guess it was us. Oops."
- Papa fergie, on the recent blackout.
3:45 p.m. - Aug. 16, 2003
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friendster fan mail
Much love, even in Barcelona.
My addiction to Friendster may eventually lead to an intervention from my offline friends and family. In the meantime, the virtual high of random exchanges with people as strange as I am satisfies me to no end.
To: fergie
From: Josep
Donde estan los pimientos?
[where are the peppers?]
To: Josep
From: fergie
tengo una pimienta amarilla grande en mis pantalones.
[there is a big yellow pepper in my pants]
To:fergie
From Josep
��sta es grandes noticias! Guardar el amarillo para m�. �Has visto los verdes y los rojos? �Puedes preguntar a sus amigos si los han visto? �Tambi�n, d�nde puedo comprar un sombrero como el tuyo?
[This is the great news! Keep the yellow one for me. Have you seen the green and the red ones? Can you ask your friend if he's seen them? Also, where I can buy a hat like yours?]
From: fergie
To: Josep
He visto muchas pimientas. Un cierto rojo, ning�n verde. �Vienen en muchos colores y los tama�os, no ellos? Usted necesita mirar m�s dif�cilmente para las pimientas, ellos no es duro de encontrar. O, puedo demostrarle mi pimienta. Le dejar� usar mi sombrero.
[I've seen many peppers. Some red, but no green! They come in many colors and sizes, though, don't they? You should look a little harder for the peppers, they're not that hard to find. Or, I can show you my pepper. I'll let you wear my hat]
To: fergie
From: Josep
Joder a los pimientos! Voy a venir a estados unidos solo para tus sombrero! Un monton de besos... y puedes poner mis besos en tus pimientos si tu deseas.
[Fuck the peppers! I'm going to come to the United States just for your hat! A pile of kisses... and you can put my kisses on your pepper if your you wish]
To: Josep
From: fergie
Usted puede poner besos en mi pimienta cualquier momento usted tiene gusto.
[You can put kisses on my pepper any time you like]
This entry sponsored in part by Babelfish
4:56 p.m. - Aug. 15, 2003
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Disclaimer
Disclaimer.
I am sarcastic.
My diary is not about the daily events in my life. This blog isn't just a house for my thoughts or ideas, nor does it ever detail something I've completely made up. It's a combination of things. Somewhere along the line, I stopped just writing about myself personally and expanded on the theme of the journal into what it is now.
I am an artist.
As a writer, I've made a conscious choice to make this page a "spoof" of myself, of life, and everything in between. I'm aware that I present myself as a stark raving egomaniac, hell bent on steering the world to my will. It's on purpose. (p.s.- Do you have a weblog? Then stop denying your own ego or need for attention or both)
I am ironic.
Themes are expressed in stories, and sometimes that's all they are, stories. As an example, take the limousine post at the start of this month's page. I didn�t kill anyone, nor do I now have a personal driver. But I did see a boot on a limousine. Perhaps works of fiction, the entries are written to convey a point, an idea; they are an expression of what I believe to be true, funny, or just plain stupid. Even the very first entry was designed to entertain.
I am a storyteller.
Something I find to be true is the recent entry about believing in oneself and making perception real. The story about the friend in the bar is completely true. Sometimes life gives me examples of the very themes I'm trying to express. True to that story, the entry originally ended after I told my friend that if he didn�t believe he was hot, no one else would either. But it didn't quite hit home. What was missing? The sassy factor. The fergie-ness. So, time to make a joke and reiterate the point. Let's see... who can I make fun of, what about the situation can I turn into a bit... I know, I'll make a joke about ego and pick on the most obvious choice... ME!! Insert punch line and repeat theme, this time making it more personal. There is a method to my madness.
I am fergie.
End of disclaimer.
1:45 a.m. - Aug. 14, 2003
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Philosophy
Philosophy.
The other night at a bar, a friend of mine confided that he didn't feel he'd have any luck meeting anyone because they wouldn't be attracted to him. What? I snarled in disbelief, always a bit shocked to hear about self-image issues coming from a friend of mine. I'd describe him as a "good looking friend of mine," but the two are synonymous. It goes without saying that if you're in my posse, you're hot. What, you think I hang with ugly people?
I told him in all honesty that he had nothing to worry about, and I didn't want to hear this kind of crap from him again. I went on, saying not only that he was very attractive, but that he was also easily one of the hottest guys in the room. He gave me a roll of the eyes in disbelief.
Look, I said, If you don't believe it, no one else will either.
He asked if I thought I was one of the hottest guys there in the bar. Without hesitation I snapped, Bitch, I am the hottest guy in this bar.
Was this true? Highly doubtful. But if I don't believe it, no one else will either.
3:13 p.m. - Aug. 13, 2003
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DSL
Do you have DSL?
As ever, my friends and I are on the cutting edge of technology and sexuality. The acronym DSL no longer refers to internet connection, and now stands for Dick Sucking Lips.
5:43 p.m. - Aug. 12, 2003
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sex on the brain
GlitterQueen:
hmmmmm, a new g/b entry.......
fergie:
??
GlitterQueen:
princessa007
fergie:
OIC
fergie:
guest/book..... I'm slow these days
fergie:
Does sex kill brain cells? If so I'm on my way to retarded
GlitterQueen:
oh mahn, i's howp nawt
2:12 a.m. - Aug. 12, 2003
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Kitty's got game
Kitty's got game.
If there's one thing this weblog could use more of, its stupid entries about my crazy feline friend.
Ghost (or "let's try to freak daddy out")
There are some advantages of being a black cat, and Chaos uses her extra creepy nature to her full advantage. For one, yellow eyes against jet-black fur is the stuff of Steven King, and kitty always has the same constant expression on her face, deadlocked and threatening. When Chaos Kitty plays ghost, she likes to open cabinet drawers and then run away quickly so I can't see she's the one that opened them. All my closet doors are sliding doors, and she'll paw her way into one of them, causing it to creak. When I come around the corner, she stands far away from the closet, and then slowly turns her head, like she's following something. Then kitty whips her head around, locks eyes with me, and opens her little pink mouth to mew a monotone wail. This "meow" is also a creepy thing she does, because it's always exactly the same. I've had numerous cats, and they have different sounds for different things (dinner, pet me, feed me from your plate, etc.) but her tone is constant, a high pitched and screeching "Wreeh!" So when she does the flip her head around thing, flashing her teeth and maintaining constant eye contact while she screeches, it's rather freaky.
Run away!
When Chaos looks sweet and innocent, she's usually pretending to be asleep. Lying on the floor, unnoticed, kitty will suddenly fly up into the air and run if you start to walk in her direction. I often walk from my office to the kitchen, and she'll make a giant loop in the living room as I'm getting something to drink or whatever, and then as soon as I turn around, she runs away from me back into the bedroom where we started. When I sit down at my computer, she makes a lap around again to the door, and curls up on the floor in the hallway once more.
I'm going outside.
Kitty plays this game when I do laundry and leave the door open while I check the dryer. She steps outside the front door, waits for me to come out of the laundry room down the hall, crouches like she's going to spring into action, and jumps into the apartment running full force for like two seconds, then stops to clean her paws after going out. I'm afraid this game may combine with "Run Away!" at some point, and she'll go missing again.
Kitty wants you to pet her but you have to come over here. Now closer. Closer. Now kitty attacks you!
Chaos will rub against you, then lie down a few feet away. When you move over to pet her, she jumps up and rubs up against you again and then lays down again a few feet farther away. After following kitty halfway across the room, when you go to pet kitty, instead of rubbing up against you she attacks your hand.
Let's drive daddy crazy and meow at him until he throws something,
Self-explanatory.
Can I fit into this drawer/cabinet/ box /suitcase/bookshelf?
Also self-explanatory.
If you don�t rub kitty's tummy, something bad will happen.
With her emotionless face and bright yellow eyes like full moons, kitty lies on her back and tilts her head expectantly. In moments, the eyes become more focused and begin to look crazed, as she twists oddly from the waist, slowly turning in a half circle on the floor without changing her position on her back. She just sort of bends in half-sideways, wide eyed, paws ever so delicately closed in around her chest. I used to call this game "possessed kitty" and would "exercise the demon" by putting my hand on her head and then releasing it up into the air. Kitty quickly caught on and clutched my hand in all four paws, keeping it flat with her belly and looking at me, unflinching. The name was quickly changed.
Minefield bear trap.
This is a more dangerous version of "rub the tummy" because it includes the possibility of a surprise attack with all four paws, claws bared, described above. As with many of kitty's games, you usually don't know you're playing this one until you're in pain.
Jump up and scare you.
Kitty likes to play this game with guests the most, as they are completely unsuspecting. She appears out of nowhere in a flurry of black fur over the arm of the couch, or directly into their lap at a running start from across the room.
Bite the toes.
Chaos will go up to someone with bare feet, rub her head against their heel, pull her nose back, open her mouth, and bite their big toe. It's like a slow motion shark attack. So cute. When the person yelps in pain, she looks around as though perplexed by their actions.
Trying to trip you.
This is a game of close observation, because Chaos only plays "trying to trip you" when someone is carrying something, preferably large and obstructing their view. It works great when that someone is trying to move a chair under a light so they can change the bulb. Someone has considered renaming this game "kick the kitty."
One game that Chaos stopped playing was "roll around in a plastic bag." She used to like to take out empty plastic bags from the cabinet and play with them. I have to pause to explain that I save the little plastic bags from stores and use them as trash liners for my smaller receptacles, and as I mentioned earlier kitty likes to open drawers and stuff. Suffice it to say I tried to discourage this, as we all know the issues involving our kids playing with plastic bags. Of course this didn�t stop her and sometimes I would leave a bag on the counter by accident or something. Anyway, one day she got the handle of the bag wrapped around her neck and freaked out when she couldn�t get away from it. She tried to run, but the bag just ballooned out and rattled behind her, completely terrifying the poor little dear. To this day, when I come home with a bunch of shopping bags she hides in her super-secret hiding spot under the sink, pulling the door closed behind her and mewing feebly.
4:20 a.m. - Aug. 09, 2003
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autograph
I knew that Whitney and I had a general split of everything in the apartment, but since she moved out it's come to my attention that the only items I own include furniture, books, and cute little expensive things. The other day I went to feed kitty and didn�t have a can opener to get her dinner out. She had dry food. I failed to realize I only have stemware to drink from, no other glasses, or even so much as a full service for one. When my dinner arrived (we've established I don't cook), I actually had to eat out of Styrofoam containers with a plastic fork.
This past week has been like living in a third world country.
I like to buy candles, bath products, and clothes; stocking the kitchen falls low on my list of priorities and it's not something I care to spend much money on. I have a new design concept for the apartment, and dishes and crap like that, while necessary, are things I can afford to go cheap on.
I have now experienced my first shopping trip to a target store. I have to admit I was quite weary of stepping into a store larger than a boutique on Melrose, and the massive overhead lighting was quite startling. However I was prepared, wearing my cap and sunglasses least I fall into unflattering halogen light. I was able to quickly find what I was looking for, and now I know how people survive by not buying designer. Previously, I'd looked in a catalogue for a more upscale store, and was convinced 22.50 a plate was a pretty good deal. Here, a full four piece set (plates, bowls, cups, glasses, saucers, and matching silverware), was being sold together for a total of $9.88. I whipped off my D&G sunglasses and looked at the price again. Praise Jesus, I said as I sashayed my way to the counter. It was over just like that.
The best part was that by being so clearly out of my element no one even recognized me or asked for an autograph.
10:50 p.m. - Aug. 07, 2003
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Mexico
Stupefied by super stupidity.
Everyone loves the web because it connects people instantly. The majority of my communication with my family is via email, and my best friend and I talk online almost every day. When a friend of mine went to study abroad this summer, we kept in close contact and I knew almost instantly that he was unharmed after the ETA bombing in Alicante, which was in the building adjacent to his school.
Even better, though, is the ability to choose not to have interaction with certain people.
Today when I clicked open my messenger, I received a chat bubble from someone I don't know, someone that probably put in the wrong email into his or her buddy list. It happens, an honest mistake. It's not right to assume that because they put in the wrong email that they're a complete moron, right? I can at least let them know they've got the wrong person.
Villageidiot12020315:
Hey!
Fergie:
Hey there. Who's this?
Villageidiot12020315:
How's it going?
Fergie:
Fine. I asked who this was?
Villageidiot12020315:
Mexico
Mexico? That doesn't even make sense. At this point I don't want to be bothered with this person, and in real life I'd have to find some way out of the conversation. But not online. Fergie clicks "block sender" and Villageidiot12020315 can no longer see when he is online or contact him, and the love affair with the web continues.
Related:
Things That Annoy
5:55 p.m. - Aug. 06, 2003
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AUGUST 2003
Boot on a limousine.
There are many things that force a laugh out of my mouth in Los Angeles. There is such a rich contrast between the high rolling industry world and reality. Fabulous is simply perception, the rich and powerful take a shit and wipe their ass just like everybody else. Today, I saw a parking enforcement officer putting a wheel boot on a shiny black stretch limousine.
Now clearly this wasn't the first ticket on the limo, parking enforcement only gets that serious when someone has pissed them off to the tune of about $500 dollars. Either that or so many tickets unpaid, some crap like that. They have the ability to boot a car and tow it if all fines aren't paid within twenty-four hours. The car then becomes property of the city after thirty days. Of course, dear reader, you can imagine that at this point, simply paying the fines isn't enough to get the car returned, since there is tow fee and a twenty-five dollar a day impound fee. For parking enforcement, it's the last straw they're tired of fucking with you the end. You will pay ticket or no drive for you. The driver's troubles, however, are only just beginning, and they can kiss a nice chuck of cash goodbye. It can get rather serious, and it all begins and ends with the boot.
I'm contemplating all this at the stop sign where I'm watching the limo get the boot. As I rolled through the intersection doing a true California stop (which, by the way, means not stopping), the only thing I could think to do was roll down my window and yell "you can't do that! Don't you know who I am?!?"
Further, and what really made me laugh aside from the shocked look on the meter maid's face, was that I realized there was no threat I could follow up with. Normally I'd say, "you're career is over," but the bitch is driving around, in a full uniform, writing up tickets for parked cars. There's no career trajectory for a meter maid. Even threatening to kill her would be a step up.
So I ran her over. It was my good deed for the year.
Thankful and running shirtless over to me, the driver made his way on the scene. He told me he gets tickets for taking up more than once space, and that if he parks in his driveway he gets tickets for blocking the sidewalk. Since I helped him, he feels he's indebted to me. We've worked out a schedule and I never have to drive again. I'm actually writing this entry from my laptop in the back of my new limo as I ride around town. I have a lot of errands to run today.
8:18 a.m. - Aug. 01, 2003
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