Back when I went to what is now Palm Beach Community College, it was named Palm Beach Junior College. We called it "Peanut Butter & Jelly College." Or when we were feeling competitive with our trust-fund friends, we'd just say we went to "UCLA" (the University of Congress and Lucerne Avenues).

The "Community" part was an Eighties add on, put in place of the previously diminutive "Junior" – which I always thought lent a charming Hee-Haw edge to an otherwise snooty and exclusive-sounding moniker.

Oh, that sounds like I'm not being nice. I really have no malice toward this, my first of many alma maters. (PBJC is but one of the many things I have in common with Burt Reynolds and Deidre Hall, after all.)

But the college is doing itself no favors by further marginalizing a certain community (Guessy who?!) by denying domestic-partner benefits for employees and then turning around and offering pet insurance as part of their employee fringe package.

Domestic. Domesticated. I can see their dilemma.

Unless, of course, this is PBJC's idea of a compromise because they have a soft spot for all those nice lesbians with so many cats. But we have to ask: Will they pull the coverage if they discover the cats are gay?

And I quoth:

"Heard they'd do anything for a Klondike
Well I'd do anything for a blonde dyke
And she'll do anything for the limelight
And we'll do anything when the time's right"
– Kanye West, Stronger

Really, Kanye? I thought we were cool.

I think we're fighting now.















Let's make out.

Not sure how this answers the question, but when the author of the mega-gazillion-selling Harry Potter Inc. series fielded an audience query about whether or not headmaster character Albus Dumbledore ever finds true love, she replied, "Dumbledore is gay."

Ummmm, yeah. Purportedly when asked if Hermoine ever bears Harry's children, the author quipped, "Hermoine is barren."

J/K (Rowling) about that last part.

We all know PostSecret. We all know teh Lolz CatZ.

But do you know ....

LolSecretz?

I Canna Quit Cheezburger!

My name is Andy
(clap clap)
And I like art
(clap clap)
I'm a new Gay Place blogger
(clap clap)
I'll win your heart!

Oh and: 5'7", green, brownish brown, chai not coffee, expanded cable, queer feminist, Jew-ish, Bjork, and never in my life! Grody!

Just sat down for my weekend-ending TV decompress session and realized that I was just in time for la Brit's comeback, opening MTV's VMAs. Kanye West is pissed that he's relegated to opening one of the four other parties happening elsewhere at the Palms in Vegas concurrent to the awards. (Ha ha! They just cut to him in the party again and he's belting out "Stronger" which sounds dedicated to Brit):

Florida's John McCain campaign co-chair, Republican state rep, and some might say "dorkalicous bear" Bob Allen sets the record straight about his arrest for allegedly offering $20 for oral sex to an undercover cop. Allen wants the world to know that the reason he was in that bathroom was because he was scared of the "black guys around in the park." He says he would have said anything to just get away. Like: "I'll blow you if you don't hurt me"?

Check this video of his press conference, and see if you think Allen's lip-smacking lisp is at all convincing.

If you poke around Allen's official Florida representative page, you can learn about interesting things like the committees he serves on and his "Recreational Interest" (!!!).

The line between humiliation and effective management is but a mere cat's whisker.

Just ask the oh-so-masculine (and apparently very secure about it) Thai police whose limits have been pushed to the brink – calling on the power of the punitive pussy to keep their ranks in line. "Thai police officers who break rules will be forced to wear hot pink armbands featuring Hello Kitty, the Japanese icon of cute, as a mark of shame, a senior officer said Monday."

"'(Hello) Kitty is a cute icon for young girls. It's not something macho police officers want covering their biceps,' [Police Col. Pongpat Chayaphan] said."

If they know what's good for them, they won't tell Hello Kitty, for fear she might unleash the wrath of her three-shiny-apples worth upside their macho noggins.

And whatever you do, don't tell this guy.