Remote access still not working. Leaving for nearly two weeks.

Will return the day after Thanksgiving, Nov 28.

While I'm away, I'll post away in the comments thread to this blog.

You can comment there, too. See you inside.

The only exception is Survivor. Everything about Survivor goes in the following post.

I'm leaving for two weeks again. Back Nov 28, the day after Thanksgiving.

Use this thread for Survivor discussion. I'll be there posting on Survivor, too.

My prediction for the first week, Nov 20:

The rule is, after the merge, the dominant alliance never fails. I think that has only proved false once. Mark Burnett always tries to lure us in to believing this time will be different. I hate falling for it, but . . .

But things are screwy enough this time that it may actually fall. I'm going out on a limb and saying this will be the second time. Only if Rupert fails to win immunity, because they'll never attempt it without taking him out. In theory, they could just as effectively do it by nailing Chista, but you saw what happened last week.

But if Rupert does lose immunity, I'll narrowly predict that Burton will rally the others and pull it off. The fact that the previews are suggesting it is a bad sign, but I'll go with it anyway.

Survivor Pearl Islands page here.

Head here (comments for this post) for Survivor Comments until I return

I promised more on Pretty Ryan on The Early Show, but he didn't have a lot to say.

So I'll be lazy and copy in what somebody posted on the Fans Of Reality TV site:

Here’s what I picked up:
(1) Evil Lill (as host Harry Smith referred to Lill Morris) sealed the gloomy fate of the remaining Morgans.
(2) After Andrew’s exit, he saw the handwriting on the wall and knew he was going to be voted off.
(3) He was genuinely upset with Andrew's departure.
(4) He tried to make deals the last couple of days prior to TC.
(5) Christa and he exchanged heated words and that’s why he voted for her.
(6) He wasn’t happy with the Outcasts twist and he and Jeff had a heated discussion about it.
(7) He knew that Burnett would throw all kinds of twists and the challenge was what he signed up for.
(8) At loser lodge, he smelled food like it was going out of style.
(9) He gained 10 lbs. in two days after the boot.

BTW, ladies, like Burton and Andrew, Ryano looked hotter on the islands than in the cemented jungle.

After that final assessment, I have to wonder how much to believe this guy, but he did get the gist of the topics right, albeit lifeless in presentation. But Pretty Ryan looked so much hotter in the studio. And what's with directing that comment specifically to the "ladies"?

Hennyway, to expand on that a bit:

Pretty Ryan said he got into "a heated battle" with Dimples, not discussion. Sounded ugly, and the most interesting thing to say, but came up in the last ten seconds and Harry ignored it. Either the pre-interviewer missed out on the single best topic, or Harry was an ass not to raise it in time.

He said he was shocked to watch the show the night before and learn of all the plotting that went on to bust the alliance. "Wow. That happened?" he said.

That's interesting/surprising. Apparently no one let him on any of it, Burton must have been tight-lipped about what he was considering. And all that scheming we saw was perhaps for after Ryan was gone, never intended to include him. Or maybe they were just waiting till after the Immunity Challenge, and then folded their cards when Rupert won. I'm betting the former.

It's also hard to gauge intelligence too much from a short interview segment, but the boy did seem a little unnecessarily confused more than once. Or maybe he was just nervous being on TV. I still love him, and I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'll always be smart in my book, smart enough to marry. And I am still available.

Survivor Pearl Islands page here.

Head here (comments for this post) for Survivor Comments until I return

Just watching now, more in a few minutes. Clark definitely starts off well, making a strong case on various aspects of Iraq.

Definitely presidential.

I'm beginning to endure a full hour of that pretentious blowhard Tim Russert for you people. You owe me.

Update:

Well it's over, and Clark did really well, though Russert was . . . well he wasn't nearly as full of himself as usual, but his questioning was really lame. All old stuff that has been rehashed over and over. Almost all foreign policy, which we know, we know, we know. Almost nothing about domestic issues, where we really want to know what Wes Clark has to offer. Just stunning how dumb his line of questioning was.

Wes was very strong most of the time, came across as senisible, likeable and solid. Unfortunately, I had heard nearly all of it before, because of the goofball conducting the interview. Clark has definitely gotten his act together though, and is more solid and sure of himself than the first weeks of the campaign.

I'd give Clark an A-, Russert a D-.

Every once in awhile, I still get a puzzled look when I use the word google, and I refuse to use meterosexual in a sentence, so the main terms currently causing befuddlement in my conversations are blog and Friendster.

You probably know what a blog is if you landed here, but Friendster may still require explanation. Pick up a copy of last month's Spin. The cover story is titled, "More addictive than crack?" and it's referring to the new breed of online software led by Friendster.

How to describe? It's one of those things that are tougher to see the value of until you play with it a bit, but here goes:

It's a way to meet people, not so much for sex, like most earlier profile-based sites, though I'm sure that happens. This breed is all about connecting to people. You post a profile with your interests, pic, etc., and you link to people who are your friends (you can start with me, if you like, if you're here and you've come back more than once), and you can see who they're connected to and they're connected to . . .

You can meet people that way, or just stay in touch. Or remember their name if you met them at a party. Does this graphic from the Friendster site help?

Here's a scenario: you go to a club or a party with a friend, meet some of there friends and there's someone there that you found interesting, but you didn't have a chance to talk much and find out a lot, and/or remember their name, and/or get a number. If they're on here, you can see their picture under your friend's profile, find out more about them, and message them. Blah blah blah.

Of course it depends on lots of people being on there, but these things have been spreading like germ warfare the last several months.

Friendster is the biggest one, by far, so far. (My profile here, though I just signed up two minutes ago, so I'm still friendless.) If you're straight, this is probably the place to start.

Gayboys and lesbos--or breeders looking to diversify their friend catalog--are likely to enjoy Connexion more. It was started by big gay billionaire/philanthropist/tech-wiz Tim Gill (he wrote the original Quark Express program and started Quark a few decades back, then started The Gill Foundation with $300 million of the profits). It has grown wildly in the gay community the past few months.

Connexion also seems to be a big improvement over friendster, as far as I can tell. The same exact basic format, but much easier to get around, to get to your friends' friends. Friendster is actually bugging the crap out of me right at this moment. Maybe user error, but Connexion was a lot more intuitive. I was set up in about a minute flat, and bopping around to different people immediately. You can check out Connexion and link to me here.

(But be prepared: The Connexion link will confront you with a more recent picture of me, taken on my LA trip a few months ago. I hope it doesn't scare you. I'm thinking about posting it on this site once I can get someone to photoshop out the ficus leaves. I think they're fine in the shot there, but I need to crop out the skin below my neck (not that much skin, but too much for here), and it's the oddest thing when I crop it close in all directions. Suddenly the few ficus remaining look like a laurel wreath, but less like Caesar, more like a wood nymph. So I'm holding off for now. But you can let me know what you think about the switch. I've been meaning to test-market the switch since I got back from LA.)

Of course both Connexion and Friendster are free, or I wouldn't be providing space here.

And Connexion is non-profit and assures no spam, ever, and also has an activist component (provides an easy way to register to vote online, tells you were your polling place is, etc., and you can join an activist network to respond to things.)

I have had quite the fun time with Connexion the past couple months, will have to let you know about Friendster.

So regardless of whether you want to play, at least you'll know what the hell people are talking about when they use these terms. Although you may be six months ahead of me. If so, do let me know what the latest thing is that I'm unaware of in the comments.

Saturday night, and I'm home vegging, because I beat the shit out of my body last night. Not quite sunrise this time, but close.

The alarm shattered my brain at 10, had to get up for work thing that couldn't wait, had to drive 30 minutes each way, my head splitting open, prepared to pull over any moment to puke. And my shoulder . . . More on that later.

What's going on? It's like this every weekend, lately. Seem to be on a latenight binge, and it's getting hard for my body to take it. I wasn't getting enough stimulation in my life before this job started, now . . . I don't know, maybe if I went out earlier. Seems I'm lucky to get to the club by 11 or 12, and they kick you out here by 1:45, so I'm just getting started. Two to three hours of dancing and flirting and messing around doesn't seem like enough for a week. It was more than enough with a boyfriend, but now there's a bigger hole to fill.

And I do love doing it, but my body, good lord.

And it's starting to get comical sometimes, I hope my tricks are getting a few laughs out of this. (Breeders: gay people call their one-night stands tricks. It doesn't imply prostitution.)

I like to wrestle around in bed, and I'm 6' 2'' so it's not that often I find someone bigger than me, so I couldn't have been happier last night until he pinned my arms back and I started screaming, "Yaaaaaaaaaaaah! No! My shoulder! Arggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggh!" (Can somebody help me with those spellings?)

In the seconds it took him to figure out what the hell was happening, why I was suddenly screaming like a 12-year-old girl over a simple wrestling move, realized I wasn't playing around was really in God-awful pain and let go, my arm felt like it had been ripped off at the shoulder.

I think I mentioned here how I injured it a year ago, finally went to the doctor this fall, and it's not a torn rotator cuff, but a bad case of tendinitis with an inflamed rotator. The therapy has been great: I can lift it straight to the side higher than my shoulder now, all the way up to the front, to the viewer it looks fine unless I try to reach around to scratch my back or attempt the breast stroke or a few specific movements. Like getting my arms pinned back.

I felt like such a feeble old man. I get pretty aggressive when I'm drinking sometimes, I like to mess around a little rough, everybody was enjoying it and suddenly I'm this hobbled invalid, right in the middle of a hot sex encounter.

It's not like it was just one scream, my arm just hung there limp after that, I was terrified I had ripped something apart inside. The pain was excruciating, but not half as bad as feeling like such a pussy.

And a fraud, maybe. I've been working out a lot, lost the gut, got the six pack back, had a few drinks, strutting around on the dancefloor, arrange a hookup with a muscleman, push him around in the bedroom, goad him into pushing back and . . . pussy pussy pussy.

And then there's my back. Doesn't bother me most of the time, but if I hunch too long over the computer or various other things I can creak out of bed in the morning all hunched over. If they could see me then.

Back to the bedroom. The guy felt awful. He had to watch me there, acting like an amputee, somehow he had ripped my arm off like a doll part, not quite sure how it even happened. He kept asking why I didn't warn him. The truth is, I didn't even think about it, but if I had, would I have wanted to? "You know how I'm acting all tough right now? One wrong move and I could by crumpled on the floor howling like a wounded animal." That's hot.

I can laugh about it now, but I must have looked freaking ridiculous. Oh, and my hair has gone pretty gray, I need to update the picture here. When does it just become pathetic? I'm not ready to quit playing. I like to play. I get all giddy by Friday afternoon, I can't wait to get back out on the playground. And I seem to still be OK there, but how much steam can I have left inside me?

I should have filmed it, you could have had a good laugh.