JOHN ENSIGN CREEPS ME THE HELL OUT!

This is the IN THE LV interview with Jeff Sharlet, author of "The Family".

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

IN THE LV AIRS WEDNESDAYS 8-10PM ON www.vegasallnetradio.com (pst)
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THE FAMILY

http://208.78.109.250/In%20the%20LV/lv072209.mp3

PLEASE CONSIDER THESE CANDIDATES FOR CLARK COUNTY DEMOCRATIC PARTYN LEADERSHIP POSITIONS

Hi! What an exciting time we are living in here in one of the greatest states in the union, Nevada! We are about to exercise our rights as members of the strongest and proudest political party in the country and elect the people we believe will be able to lead the way into the future as we make sure this state leads the way in maintaining a strong Democratic Party hold on the levers of power here in Clark County, throughout the state of Nevada and all over the country.

Whomever you choose to vote for, please remember, you must vote for those who are willing to think outside of the box and are proactive, as opposed to reactive and who are tireless in their dedication to the ideals of progressive leadership and a true love of country and the democratic process.

Please also know that while many can claim long residence or impressive resumes, oftentimes it's the new kid on the block who brings fresh and forward looking ideas to the table.

My following recommendations are not against anyone, they are for people I have personally seen in action and am proud to support and call friends.

PLEASE CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING CANDIDATES:

ANDREW MARTIN 1ST VICE CHAIR
Andrew is a tireless worker and well qualified for this position. His own professional background fits like a glove to the job requirements of 1st Vice Chair. He has been a stalwart of the Democratic Party and a stand up guy.

ADDIE CRISP 2ND VICE CHAIR
This position needs someone with Addie's vision for the future. Addie understands that there is a difference between resume building and true dedication to grassroots organizing for the future of the party. Addie has worked constantly as an unpaid volunteer since the primaries while holding down a full time job. In talking to Addie I hear a young woman who understands that many of the old ways of doing business are just not sufficient anymore. She is the future of the Democratic Party and I know that with her at the helm new ways of reaching out to young people, seniors, minorities and women will be devised and implemented with the end result being victory in 2010 and beyond for the Democratic Party in Nevada.

SANJE SEDERA 3RD VICE CHAIR
I have been impressed with Sanje since our first meeting over a year ago. I have NEVER attended a Democratic Party event in that time and not seen Sanje there as an active participant. In addition to his professional background, Sanje is a man who came to our great country to pursue the American Dream and through hard work and dedication, he has achieved it. With Sanje in the is position, we would not only get a hard worker we would get a man who reflects the dreams of millions of new Americans and Nevadans. His ideas for membership retention and recruitment are second to none, yet, his mind is quite open to always hearing a new idea or take a suggestion from all quarters.

I do hope that you vote for these people, but, more importantly, you must vote. These people running have pledged to dedicate a huge portion of their personal lives to represent you and deserve a few moments of your time tomorrow.

Thank you,

Derek Washington

A STRONG BLACK WOMAN WORTH LISTENING TO: KIM CORDY

Listen to Justaskkim on Blog Talk Radio

TAKE A MOMENT AND HEAR THIS LOVELY LADY AND HER VERY INTERESTING SHOW.

LEADESHIP: WHERE IS IT? WHO IS IT?

We've got trouble right here in LGBT City.

We are adrift. We are a skiff without even the smallest rudder. We bounce from issue to issue all under the umbrella of "wanting our equal rights".

Now.

We don't understand why we dont't have them yet. We voted overwhelmingly for Obama.

He was our saviour, no?

No.

We did everything we were supposed to do. We bought McMansions in Summerlin. We got a table at the big HRC Gala.

And rented a tux too.

We even adopted perfectly lovely mixed race children whom we will screw up over time just like straight people.

What more could they want from us?

How about a leader?

It aint Obama.

It never was.

We put a cloak of Gay Divinty on him that he never said he would wear. When Prop 8 passed, we turned our vitriol on the Black community and said it was their fault and how dare they betray us?

After all, we voted for "him".

Turns out it wasn't the Black folks fault. It was the power sucking vacuum at the top of the "leadership" ladder of the LGBT "community" who screwed up by doing what they had always done.

Our so called "leadership" is moribund and molding like that cake of Miss Havishams sitting in a musty corner of a Victorian sitting room.

Like members of some Republican country club, they sit with stogies and Mojitos in hand pondering whether or not to get off of their asses and actually go down to the fields and pull a weed or just stay in air conditioned comfort and chortle about how the field workers get all sweaty and while that may be "hot", it won't happen "in my Guccis".

Har.

Har.

These self appointed Nabobs of LGBTwood so thoroughly screwed up the battle for Prop 8 that it spawned a new community of grassroots activists across the country. After all, "I can" is the American way of life. Gay or Straight.

That is a welcome development. However, now, like a dead mother spider( how apt an analogy for the Gay "leadership" if I do say so myself. And I do.)with dozens of babies running all over the kitchen floor scattering hither and yon, the LGBT movement has become some scatter shot approach to achieving equality. At best.

While not denigrating the amazing efforts of groups like MEET IN THE MIDDLE and STAND OUT FOR EQUALITY, we will never have anything except pieces of equality here and there until we find our Leader.

Thing is, we may just have to grow him or her.

We have a long and hard slog ahead of us. Are we prepared for that? Are we willing to drive through the dark in hateful places that don't want us or to board buses and go and demand our rights? If the water cannons are turned on us, will we cry and run away?

Or will we stand our ground and finally learn the words to "We shall overcome"?

A lot of colored Gays, myself included, take great umbrage whenever a White male compares the Gay struggle to the struggle for Civil Rights by the (my) Black community.

It is NOT the same and please don't try to co-opt it.

A Gay person can "Butch up" and fly under the radar. A Black person seldom can "White up" and do the same.

It's especially irritating to hear such arguments coming from White males. I don't know how many White males understand that Gay or Straight, you truly are at the top of the food chain and your sufferings, however egregious they may be, are not ever going to equal the suffering and inequities of life doled out by other White males on Women and minorities. Sorry, that's the way it is.

I do understand why White Gays identify with the Civil Rights movement.

THIS IS AMERICA AND OUR CONSTITUTION CLEARLY STATES THAT ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.

But. It is not the same.

Now, may I suggest that we look at the tactics of the Civil Rights movement and study the work of Bayard Rustin (please Google him if you have ANY desire to make change) and take away from these elements the framework of what OUR movement can be.

We must have civil disobedience on a scale that this country hasn't seen since 1964 in the deepest parts of Alabama. We must withhold our dollar contributions to national organizations that say we are all on the same boat as they drive off in a bus with us underneath it.

We MUST paper over our divisions within our own LGBT community in order to move ahead.

Guess what? A lesbian is every bit as good as a Gay guy is as good as a Transgender is a good as an HIV poz person is as good as a Black, Latino, Asian, Native American, Disabled person in the LGBT "rainbow" of things.

We use that rainbow symbol, not because it's so pretty and "gay". We use it because, much like the wonderful awfulness (awful because of why it even needed to be done.) of those giant AIDS quilts of the not too far past, the rainbow reflects the amazing diversity of the LGBT community.

In order to move ahead and attain what truly does belong to us, we must embrace that rainbow. We must understand that no one group can or ever will speak for the LGBT community.

We must set a place at the table for everyone.

We need Leadership that looks like us.

That looks like America.

Which brings me back to "Leadership".

Who are our leaders? Where are they? Are they there and the current leechist system at the top squashing them as they arise (talk to the MEET IN THE MIDDLE folks about that)?

Are you a leader?

Am I?

Maybe.

More to come.

A GUIDE TO SOME FINE EATING IN EL PEUBLO DE LOS

THE BIGGEST BUMMER ABOUT LIVING IN VEGAS IS THAT THERE AREN'T ANY CHEAP, GOOD PLACES TO EAT, AND BUFFETS DON'T EVEN COUNT! SO I WENT TO L.A. TO EAT! OH YEAH, I'M NOT COMPLETELY SHALLOW. I ALSO DRANK. BUT THAT'S NEXT BLOG ENTRY.

BABYBOIS, I STARTED IN HIGHLAND PARK WHERE I FUCKED UP SOME FISH TACOS AT LA ESTRELLA! THEN I GOT A BAG OF FRUTAS MIXTAS FROM A RECENT ARRIVAL TO OUR COUNTRY. I GOT BACK ON THE GOLD LINE (YES, REAL CITIES HAVE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION) AND WENT TO CHINATOWN.

NOW, I KNOW YOU MUST BE ASKING YOURSELF, "DIDN'T FATASS JUST SAY HE JUST ATE"? WHY YES VIRGINIA, I DID. BUT, WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIEND MR. FOUR DOS O I WAS MUNCHED OUT BY THE TIME I HIT C-TOWN. I PROCEEDED TO PORK BAO MYSELF INTO A STUPOR THEN FOLLOWED IT UP WITH LUCKY DELI WHERE A WHOLE MEAL IS THREE DOLLARS. US.

SO, I WALKED OVER TO LITTLE TOKYO WITH MY FOUR DOS O FRIEND TO KEEP ME COMPANY AND AFTER HITTING A COUPLE OF MUSEUMS (WHICH REAL CITIES DON'T CONNECT TO CASINOS. I'M NOT VEGAS HATING. I'M JUST SAYING.) AND THEN FOUND A PLACE THAT SELLS OCTOPUS ON A STICK! UMM! YOU KNOW, IF YOU FRY IT, MY PEOPLE WILL EAT ANYTHING.

AFTER SOME MOCHI (JAPANESE ICE CREAM BUNS) I FELT I SHOULD GET BACK TO SOUTH PASADENA WHERE EVEN BLACK IS WHITE. ON MY WAY I WENT FOR ONE OF MY FAVORITE DISHES AT MY FAVORITE TRANNIES WITH KNIVES IN THEIR WIGS BAR, JALISCO.

AT JALISCO MY FAVORITE HE/SHE BARTENDER MADE ME A HEALTHY MEAL OF TECATE, LIMON, SAL Y CLAMATO. I FINISHED THIS OFF WITH A DELICIOUS ORDER OF PORK RINDS WHICH CAME IN A DUSTY BAG AND WERE PERFECTLY STALE.

YES.

HEAVEN.

HOW THE GAYS LEARNED TO SURVIVE WATERBOARDING, THANK YOU CONNIE CERNY!

Just 19 miles and 20 years east of Downtown L.A. there was a little burgh called, West Covina.

It might still be there.

Really.

I swear.

I left. Of my own free will. My own.

If you can imagine Satans Sock Hop, you can imagine lunch time at Edgewood High School. It's just six degrees of separation away from your 19th nervous breakdown.

If you're not smart. Or ruthless.

Or Mormon. What a happy people. Happy. They are.

Why are they so damn happy? Is it the underwear?

But.

I digress.

Like a pyrotechnic Lucille Ball during the "Lucy" show period ,yet, somehow, wrapped in the sylphlike body of a future homosexual 16 year old boy, Craig Steven Curtis was Edgewoods' own "Little Miss Dynamite". Everything seemed to blow up in his wake like one of those depth charges in an old Farley Granger Navy movie. You never quite saw the water part, but, only seconds later, KA BOOOM!

Quelle strange.

That's our First Lady used to do porn (French)for, "That who smells of sulfer". Demon Seed. Rosemary's Baby. Child of the Damned. One Bad Mamma Jamma.

Do I have to spell it out?

"Listen Connie, all you have to do is pull lookout duty, I'll do the rest!", Craig grabbed Connies frightened, yet, excited forearm. "By the time Kinzler is back, the deed will be done."

Connie nervously smiled. She wasn't a bad girl. We didn't have those. Well, later we'll get to Maully. "I think it's awful!", Connie said as she wolfed down a salad of tasteless lettuce with wet dressing. "What time?"

"11:48 on the dot", said Edgewood's own Boris Badenov.

"What if Mr. Kinzler comes?", Connie was almost giddy with the titillation of it all.

"Flash your boobies! Oh, wait, that won't work on him. Hmm, Get your braces stuck in his cardigan and play for time!" Never one at a loss for a back up plan that Craig.

"WHAT?" Connie was beginning to think she had gotten herself in a little too deep. After all, was it really worth getting into trouble over THIS?

"Listen Cerny", The Evil Debutante gritted through his teeth, "either you help us with this, or, or, I'll tell everyone you think Danny Ramos is hot!"

Ruthless.

"Hey! There goes Kinzler. Now stay here while I do it and DON"T let anybody in. As soon as you hear the back door of the choir room close, you scram!" The plot had been set in motion by He Who Leaves No Reflection.

30 minutes later a lovely, somehow getting plumper by the day, lovely Blonde swept in to the choir room with her other "Soph Sounds" (a vocal choir group of the best girl singers at Edgewood. Pretty and Blonde, they were like a Mormon Milk Calendar for hot boys on missions in Black neighborhoods in Chicago.).

Alison (head Soph) let out an audible perfect C gasp. Jamie shockingly exclaimed, "Oh My G.." she slapped her hand over her mouth before she dared say the Lords name in vain.

Laughter began to erupt. The lunchtime crowd was back for choir.

The blonde pudge ran from the room in tears! The Sophs ran after her but not before Alison turned, Dorothy Hamill flip spinning, and glared at the B.P.A.U (the Bed Pigs of America United). "You boys, are just awful!" the Singing Nun screamed.

We in the B.P.A.U. fell into fits of laughter.

There on the black board was the ultimate insult to a teenage girl having a problem with after school sessions at Ed Taco,"Katie Kow-A-Moo-Ah". A simple Italian family named had been turned in to an insult of epic proportions.

"Dude, that's not funny!", Mike McElroy grabbed my Hang Ten shirt by the collar. "Why did you do that!?" He released me and I grabbed my Jheri Curl juice and proceeded to give myself a pick me upper spray. "I didn't do it! I thought you did. Jim, did you? Jimmy? YOU, new strange kid, aww, never mind."

I got a flash!

"Whoever did that is in serious trouble!" Kinzler was PISSED. His cardigan was straining to the limits of the Dacron holding back his now enraged, jiggling stomach. "Derek! In my office! Mr. Washington! Now!"

Right before the door slammed, I realized Beelzobob was cackling silently as he picked up his books demurely and ran out like the Clam Digger wearing Minx that he was.

And why does Connie Cerny look like she needs electro shock..?



"WASHINGTON!"

Shit.

"Who did this?" Kinzlers vein was doing that thing over his eye that it did whenever he got excited. Or excited. Wink. Wink. " I know you know."

"You know, not everything that goes on around here involves me you know." SO not true, but, this one time, I REALLY wasn't involved.

BUT. I knew who was.

The grilling and threats went on for hours. Everything in a school teachers' drawer of post medieval torture kit was used.

I knew. But I don't tell. So, don't ask.

"What did Dicky K have to say to you," Cruella stared me in the eyes. "Hmph, said I had to know who was in on it. Told him I didn't. I held. I knew it was you." I looked back at him with a smile in my eyes. I mean, I had to admire this one, usually I was in on them. How come I didn't get included on this mission I wondered. Who Helped? As I was perplexing a little rat started to creep away.

"Stop right there Connie Cerny!", I screeched. "That wasn't your handwriting, OH! You pulled lookout! Ha. You little felon!" Cerny began a feeble protest, "I Didn.." "Save it Connie, you've got fun and guilt written all over your braces! Why didn't I get in on this?" I was actually a little put out. It was me after all who timed the great 4th of July multi front assault on Sandy Lee's house. I stole the sugar the night someones gas tank seized their engine. I rode in the car trunk to get in the Edgewood Drive-in when we spied on Alison making out with some Mormon Lothario, I deserved to be there.

It was always fun to bug the Soph Sounds. They never looked better than when their faces were beet red. It showed off the Periwnkle Blue in those gawd awful empire waist salutes to pregnant prom night.

Connie began to tear up. "She's gonna pee on her self!" Craig got close to her, "listen Cerny, don't blow this, you know the rule. STICK TO THE STORY. NO MATTER WHAT!"

"Miss Cerny." Kinzler had new prey. "Come here for a second please." Kinzler looked like a benevolent Goebbels awaiting the noon train.

"She's gonna break", I told He who has green blood.

"She knows the rule! STICK TO THE STORY. AND UNTIL YOU HERE FROM ME, DON'T CHANGE IT!"

"Listen Connie, Derek already told me that you did this. He felt bad for you because I said I was going to have you suspended because I already knew. He asked if I would let it go if he told me the truth." Goebbels had her right where he wanted her. "I better call your mother, I can't believe you would do something like this. It's so sad...."

"NO! It was all Craigs idea! I just watched the door! I'm so sorry! PLEASE MR. KINZLER, don't call my mom!" Connie folded like a white lady waiting on AAA after 2am on the corner of Martin Luther King and Ghetto.

"CURTIS!" Kinzly was NOT happy. For two solid hours, even though the gig was up, Lucretia kept up the front. In the face of every threat and every coercion, Craig stood firm. "I was at Ed Taco".

Again. And again.

As Connie lay splayed across a table moaning about the harsh treatment she had been afforded, out from Kinzlers office wafted Satan's Little Helper.

"And?", I inquired.

"Please! As if that one could crack me. Cerny, you're on your own, he's calling your mom". Craig pulled out a tube of bubblegum flavored lip gloss and turned around and walked away to the sounds of Baby Seals being clubbed to death. I followed him , Connie WAS being REALLY emotional.

"He's not calling her Mom. He thought the whole thing was hilarious. He said Connie cracked the moment she walked in and started crying." Soon to be a Blonde Barbara Stanwyck stand in turned to me and said, "It's pretty simple. No matter what they do to you, STICK TO THE STORY UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME."

There's a moral to this story.

Not the one you think.

I bet that Al Queda has the same basic principle. "No matter what they do to you, STICK TO THE STORY UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME." That's why Cheney et al had to resort to waterboarding and God only knows what else to get info out of the "suspected" terrorists.

Personally, I think Al Queda are closer to Connie Cerny than the two can't wait to blow this town Fag teens in our little fable. I think the pussys of Al Queda probably squeal like Pigs on a line of really good meth.

My point?

Lt. Dan Choi was recently discharged from the Armed Forces because he's Gay. So what you say?

Well, Dan Choi speaks fluent Arabic.

Al Queda speaks Arabic.

See where I'm going here?

Two things:

1/ A Homo is an interrogators worst nightmare. We don't give. Whatever you've got, we've had worse done. Or done worse.

2/ You can torture an Al Queda "suspected" terrorist all you want...but, you can't make him speak English.

Don't you think it's time to end "Don't Ask Don't Tell"?

OH SHUT THE HELL UP or NOT ANOTHER AFRICAN AMERICAN NEGRO

OK. So, Disney, purveyors of all that is good and merchandisable in the world, has finally made a movie with a Black Princess.

Egads!

Really.

I swear.

Cue the indignant, ignant, "African Americans".

I'm a lot of things.

A lot.

A whole lot.

I'm chubby (yet loveable).

I'm high yella (yet loveable).

I'm a truth teller (yet loveable).

I'm a total Bitch (yet loveable).

I'm hung like a Dominican Porn Star Donkey (yet loveable. Yet.)

I'm from West Covina (how could I be anything but loveable?).

One thing I am not?

African American.

I'm Black.

Bitchez.

Ooh, nothing gets arise out of me quicker than some nappy headed Negro spouting off about just about anything once they say , "African American".

Porquoi?

That's "we couldn't win a war if we were fighting on Gulliver's Island with Gigantor on our side" (you know, French) for, Negro please. The minute I hear "African American" I know I'm about to hear somebody 'bout to justify their time at Howard or Harvard.

On a scholarship.

Can I tell you a dirty little secret that all Black folk know? Promise you won't tell anybody else? Just between you and me? Ok. Here it T-I-S. Aint no Negro EVER said "African American" if there weren't no ofays in the room.

Uh, I mean, White people.

Yes. I meant White people. My not so good.

When White people are around, Mr. or Miss Scholarship must immediately bust out with the multi-sylebonics.

Just 'cause.

Just 'cause they have to prove that going to college or reading Nikki Giovanni in "African American Literature 101" doesn't mean that they lost their "Blackness".

Therefore, the rest of us have to be subjected to multi-syllabic versions of racial definitions that were born in the lactose intolerant, moribund brains of failed "leaders" such as Jesse Jackson and that pimp with the processed hair, Sharpton ("Free Tawanna Brawley!". Or some such.). All because Leshawn went to college.

Bother.

Well. So, Disney has the temerity after something like 300 years of making like only Blondes could have fun in fairytale kingdoms full of witches and strangely Gayesque Princes, has finally given us, Tianna or Lequisha or, who gives a flippetdy foo. Yes! Our first Black Princess.

Oh Happy Day! Massa Walt don gon give us a fantasy of our own! Wade in the water! He washed my sins away! Little colored girls can now be just as fucked up as little White Susies with body image issues and unrealistic expectations!

First Obama, now this. Can a Negro handle so much deliverance on such a short canoe trip?

Well?

Nope, according to the "African Americans" , this princess is too light and lives in New Orleans which is a cesspool of Black blood on golden streets paved with tears and therefore, inaccurate.

Thank God.

I have a feeling we'll handle misguided little Chanels and Lexus' just as well as all the Tiffany's, Brittney's and Ambers.

But NO! Not according to the graduates of "A Different World" Jr. College. And Harvard. Nope. You see, whenever and whatever we finally get for "us", it aint ne'er gone be good enough for those who need to prove that reading Tolstoy didn't effectively ruin their ability to appreciate Red Koolaid. 'Specially if it's "given" to us by "them".

Never you mind that "African Americans" gave us Bebe's Kids and BET big bootied Bitches and Hoes shaking their Rumpshakers while ghetto princes in Chrysler 300's ("it looks like a Bentley!" No it don't.) made "it rain" to the beat of "Bitch Betta Have My Money". What matters is that unless an "African American" puts up a fuss 'cause Princess Sho No No or whatever the fuck her name is aint "dark" enough or she lives in Nawlins where the "African American experience" was so awful or... Blah de blah... Ad in finitum.

Listen you braid wearin', Malcolm X watchin', T-Pain listening fraud of a bunch of "I really want a White girl" bitter Negroes, a Black princess is a fantasy character! Just like most White girls don't live in Barbie Utopia off Pacific Coast Highway with her dreamhouse and virginity intact, aint no way to do a fantasy black princess if you're going to insist that she be a Buckwheat colored, nappy headed, oppressed pickanniny livin' one step off of Oppression Lane. Nobody wants to sit through two whole seasons of Lil Kim on Dancing With The Stars. And nobody wants to sit through 90 minutes of "Precious, Pregnant Teen", The Animated tales.

It's Disney you stupid fucks. Stop bitching. Buy some damn popcorn. Listen to the latest Vanessa Williams treacle and shut the fuck up.

If you are so intent on bitching because something aint "African American" enough for you, get on a ricketdy ass Air Nigeria plane and ,hopefully if it don't crash, get yo ass back to Africa.

At least then you can be an African and leave us Americans alone.