Big Whoop! Who Gives A Bibble? Gabba Gabba Hey.

That title is of course a line spoken by none other than Marge Simpson in an episode whose details escape me at present time... but it was said in the context of something like, "so you didn't make the soccer team... big whoop! Who gives a bibble?! Gabba gabba hey."

I found it rather fetching.

And will now use it as a title whenever I have a blog full of minutia/things that are still blogworthy but not qualifiable as 'Haute Topics'.

Anyway...

Today is Canadian theatre impresario David Mirvish's birthday. And, seeing as I work in the Mirvish building, it's a big, fat, festive deal around these parts.

Although I don't work directly under him, he still signs m'cheque, and whenever I encounter him I all but avert my gaze. Which is ridiculous, because the man's about the nicest, most passive, genteel dude ever - but I still find myself in greeting him with fear/reverence.

Like every time he comes up to our office and I have slight warning, I'll bust my ass to tidy and y'know, put on my shoes (I'm notoriously sock-footed at work. Notoriously).

Anyway, as almost always happens when you're trying to impress someone, you say monumentally retarded things. He just called up here looking for my boss, and it SOMEHOW took me like 5 minutes to explain to him that he's gone for lunch, at which point he's like "cool. tell him to call me when's he's back" and I'm all "ABSOLUTELY!" and he's all "great" and I'm like "yeah. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and he's like "thank you"...

And then there was a momentary lull in the conversation - which is pretty much my mortal enemies as I always feel the need to fill those with soundbytes that get more bizarre and inappropriate as I go on.

So I say, "OH- it's also Michael Jacksons' birthday!" - WHICH IT TOTALLY IS - and he's like "... oh. Is that so?". And I'm like "Yeah! Crazy, huh? ... anyways, BYE!"

WHY DO I SPEAK? Fuck.

In other news...

Jessica Alba's in town. Shooting a new movie alongside Mike Myers called "Love Guru". She was snapped by photogs outside some unnamed 'chic' eatery looking incontestably marvelous.

Dear Jessica Alba: please leave my city. Thanks.

In other, other news...

Closeted gay Republicans who get busted in seedy sex scandals suck.

Well, actually, they don't. They wish they could. But they always try to in a public place and get busted by the popo-or blowpo.

The latest in a string of 'em (Mark Foley, Ted Haggard, that Republican youth leader who got caught jerking off his unwilling bunkmate at some Republican retreat) is Senator Larry Craig.

This is hardly a first offense, either. He's been alleged of it before - dating back to a congressional page scandal as far back as 1982. This time around, the scene of the crime was in an airport bathroom in the bustling gay epicentre of the world, Minneapolis, Minnesota.

He was making a lot of bizarre foot-tapping signals and inappropriate hand gestures to a sexy undercover blowpo, busted, then plead guilty.

I wouldn't have a problem with all these Republican homos on the DL if they still behaved like they did but were merely passive if-not slightly favorable to the GLBT cause.

It's the fact that these guys act so vehemently anti-gay, voting against hate-crime laws and same-sex marriage, then go out and commit these dirty, backalley indecencies and thereby perpetuate the stereotype/profile of the God-foresaken homosexual that all their fucking constituents think they need to protect the rest of the world from! Grrr!

Anyway... I gotta run... cake is being served downstairs... and I loves me some cake...

Such as,

--- Aj