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March 2006

Deep in conversation at Sin City’s McCarren airport, I watched the glum faces trod back to their respective flights, all-but-confirming the rickety facade that is ‘getting lucky in Las Vegas.’ Ever notice that the plane ride to Vegas is always packed full of not only optimism, but people who truly think they’re going to find their fortune? Reality sets after a day on the strip, with the plan ride home closely resembling a wake. People are tired, burned-out and broke. Make no mistake… Las Vegas is more machine than city. It’s decades of carefully cultivated spectacle. Sure, the mob was might have been run out of the hotel business years ago, but the more frightening fact comes in knowing everything is now a faceless, soul-less corporation. At least the mob took the time to know who was playing at their tables. Now we deal (literally and figuratively) with Bellagio’s disgruntled dealers who closely resemble American Idol’s Paula Abdul after too much botox: Emotionless and just plain sterile. Your first 10 minutes in a hotel’s casino in Las Vegas… You after you’ve maxed-out your credit advances, debit cards, cash, sold a pint of blood, wasted $200 to see Celine Dion and paid damn near $40 at the Wynn buffet. Not that any of this is news, but it was on my mind while flying back to San Antonio, so I thought I’d share. So, we’re sitting there in the airport and discussing the internet’s uncanny ability to make normal people quasi-celebrities in their various niches. I mentioned my blog and being decently visible on the web leading to occasional situations of people recognizing me, sometimes at the most awkward moments: People yelling my name in airports, stopping me on the street, chatting with me at various gyms, complimentary TSA agents and more than a few celebs who tune into the blog on a weekly basis. I’ve never had an issue with being well-known for my line of work, as it’s something I’m pretty comfortable and proud of. There’s always been small group of people who try to demean or make you feel guilty for doing what you do, but you simply ignore it, laugh it off and go about your day. I’ll feel bad about my lifestyle choices later… Y’know, when I’m closing on another investment property, shacking up for a holiday in Mykonos and flying to London in the front of the plane. I don’t say this as a shithead or braggart, but simply as someone who has worked very hard to achieve what he wants in life. I won’t let anyone take that away from me. I also won’t apologize for the success I’ve achieved. No one should ever feel sorry for what they do right. I’m so happy I could spit, as the Oscars are over and I finally don’t have to hear about who’s wearing what and listen to gayer-than-thou Ryan Seachrest lob horrible interview questions to overly-tanned tarts such as Charlize Theron. ‘I wish i could quit (talking about) you…’ I was also somewhat delighted to see that the Academy didn’t fall into the expected fellatiating over Brokeback Mountain. Picking up only two statues, the film didn’t fare as well as the media had overly-predicted, which sent gay-rights radicals into a headspin. They truly hadn’t been this pissed off since the networks took Golden Girls off the air. Has it suddenly become the job of the gay-friendly (or mostly gay) Academy to vote with their sexual affiliation and not their hearts? Now the Academy is being called ‘homophobic’ by rights groups and post-Oscar Brokeback talk is being quietly accompanied by the sounds of violins in the background. Frankly, must EVERYTHING be about the culture of being gay instead of simply being a gay human being? Brokeback lost the gold due to an overzealous media, so in love with the sensationalistically (is that even a word????) billed ‘gay cowboy’ film that they forgot to examine why the original short story was so riveting. Yes, it translated well onto the screen, but was it the best thing this year? In my opinion, no. Was it the most hyped? Oh yes. I would have loved to see Capote get Best Film, but I took solace in seeing Crash take top honors. It was a solid film, if not as strong as those similar in their editing approach in the past (ie, Traffic, Magnolia). Congrats to Hoffman for snagging Best Actor: It was most deserved. Boo-hoo’s go to Huffman for losing out to a very chipper and incredibly toothy Reese Witherspoon. Who’da thunk that little Elle Woods would someday win an Oscar… I still think she got lucky. Top-notch actresses in sub-par films make for a rather listless category in my eyes. WARNING: Worse than crack. Thanks to Blackberry’s cash settlement, it seems that Fortune 500 companies and addicted users like me won’t need to make the switch to a…. *gulp* Treo. The patent lawsuit has been settled, leaving millions of Blackberry users in a state of euphoria. Just the thought of a Treo is absolutely frightening… TrimSpa my ass. How about a ‘full body lift’ and an ass-full of lipo… Kudos to Anna Nicole Smith for taking Howard’s advice (her lawyer) and getting a makeover for her Supreme Court appearance last week. She looked radiant. Reports from the courtroom said the Justices were siding with Smith’s case, which should soon overturn the $88 million verdict in her favor. Stay tuned for more on this one as it develops. And speaking of developing scandal, it seems that Clay Aiken has seriously pissed off Star Magazine as they’ve recently run webcam pics of Clay’s that he used to scam for gay trade on Manhunt.net. If I were Clay at this point, I’d come clean, as the writing is on the wall and those former allegation of bareback sex against him aren’t so unbelievable anymore. You could grate cheese on his hairy nipples… Very frightening. The past couple of weeks has been pretty laid back, with most of my time being divided between the Bahamas, St Lucia and Las Vegas. The Bahamas were much more interesting than I had expected, mostly because I’d only been there on cruise ships and never really saw much of what it had to offer. I was staying on Paradise Island, which is an off-shoot of Nassau and basically engulfed by the mega-resort Atlantis. While I didn’t stay there (for which I’m glad about), that company runs most of the island in one form. Atlantis offers some nice places to eat and play, but I found it too noisy and family-oriented for me to really want to stay there. If I’m near a beautiful beach, I’d rather not spend my day in a casino or doing a million things. Being a bum is foremost. *grin* The typical child staying at Atlantis We shacked up in a nice, quiet beach bungalow. Steps from the sand and close enough to the rest of the mainstream stuff to always find a place to eat or illegally sneak into a gym (more on that later). While the water was still pretty chilly, I did take a snorkeling trip, which included a dive with some reef sharks. The best part of it all came in simply boating around the islands, enjoying the gentle sun and feeling the spray of saltwater on your face. Every time I’m on a boat, I always walk away with the notion that I’m headed directly to Ebay and buying one. LOL. It is, however, a nice dream. Of all the fresh seafood options on the island, I continually went with jerk chicken or meat of some sort. I did have some conch salad (which was excellent), but had this constant craving for something more substantial. One of the best meals I had on the island, believe it or not, was at a deli in Atlantis serving liver and onions. Really good stuff and cooked perfectly. I repeatedly snuck into the RIU resort gym, risking life and limb (or so I’m told) in getting caught and ‘escorted off the property.’ RIU works on a wristband system, so it makes it pretty easy to spot non-guests. I’ve never done bench press while trying to conceal my wrists, but I did try. Luckily, I was able to pump up for about an hour a day, jog at night and make friends with a very flirty gym attendant who let me slide on not being a guest. WHOOHOO! While waiting for my flight home from Nassau, i saw Josh Duhamel (actor) and muscle-worship video boytoy Marcel. Mind you they weren’t together (fuck, that’d be hot), but it was a strange surprise seeing the two of them in such close proximity. Josh Duhamel. Friggin’ hot guy Marcel. Body of a Greek God. Also friggin’ hot. St Lucia was incredibly desolate, but naturally beautiful, which makes it the perfect destination for those wanting isolation with a luxury flair. The particular place I was shacking up at was uniquely built into the side of the Pitons, overlooking the ocean below. Each villa faced outward and is built without using a fourth wall, leaving the whole ocean-side of your suite completely open. It’s truly a different experience and a total thrill for those who are exhibitionists or enjoy combining nudity, nature and fun. The room also included a private free-form pool with a rather relaxing sounding fountain that made drifting off to sleep a cinch. The beachfront is only a 10 minute shuttle ride down, with attentive staff offering a full drink and meal menu while you enjoy just being a vegetable on the sand. I would have a great story of playing dutifully in my speedos in the warm St Lucian waters, but Delta had the insane sense to lose my bag on the way down. I actually didn’t get it back until the night before I was supposed to leave, which ultimately made for some interesting situations. I was disappointed to see that the gift shops didn’t sell men’s swimgear any smaller than a HUD home. I’m actually writing this as I head back to San Antonio from a weekend in Las Vegas. It was a relaxing trip, staying at The Palms and had a chance to see Blue Man Group in their new home at The Venetian. Still a great show with inventive ideas. Their new budget has been seriously beefed up, so if you haven’t yet seen this show, now is the time to catch it. It’s what I would call their ‘ultimate’ edition in terms of creativity, technology and humor. Funny story: I literally bumped into Pink at The Palms, while walking past her hubby’s tattoo shop which recently opened inside of the casino. I apologized initially before even realizing who she was, then saw her smile and apologize back. She’s quite a small little gal. Amazing that such a large voice comes out of such a demure frame. In any event, she’s a peach and eventually asked me why I didn’t have any visible tattoos. ‘My mom would kill me,’ I said. She just laughed, gave me a peace sign and walked away. This week’s EYE CANDY is pretty damned fresh…. As always, it’s a smattering of men with muscles. As for a WHACKOFF OF THE WEEK website, check out this newly redesigned website for the latest and greatest free images on the web. I’ve personally scoured the site and from what i can tell, it’s spyware/spam/pop-up free. I’ve also been recommended this new site: www.RideHimCowboy.com. Haven’t had the chance to check it out, but wanted to throw it up here and see if it stuck. Enjoy! ~BN A year later, your light is still shining bright… Sleep well M. You are missed.]]> >

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