Holiday homophobia, pregnant weightlifters, and pretty books

The holidays are just around the corner, and while that may mean a less stressful workload for most people, I'm not sure I can say the same for those of us in the office. Things haven't slowed down at all with regards to work, and we're not even sure if we're going to get Christmas off. I'm hoping for the best, though.

It's that same work week crunch that's prevented me from putting anything up on the blog until today. Throughout the past two weeks I've amassed quite a number of open tabs, some of which I've already had to discard because the news is stale already.

There is also the fact that nothing really exciting is going on with my life. I was supposed to go to a party yesterday, but my ride had to leave before I could leave the office. So there's that.

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As most of you guys know, reviewing books is part of what I do at my job. When I first started doing this, I was given instructions not to be so hard on local authors, especially when they were just starting out. Through the years, I've been given more freedom to write what I really think of a book, and I'm immensely thankful for that.

Being free to sat what I want does have its drawbacks: Saying a book sucks balls is bound to get a reaction from the author. Thankfully, I've only had one author go after me because of a bad review, and her points weren't very good ones at all.

Besides, the irate author I got is nothing compared to Candace Sams, who I believed is often referred to as "Crazy Lady". Her book, Electra Galaxy's Interstellar Fellar is given a one star review on Amazon and she goes nuts. I would recommend following Making Light's suggestion and "Remember to click on all the links that say Customers don’t think this post adds to the discussion. Show post anyway.'"

Trust me, it's an absolute trainwreck. The only thing I have to complain about is that Sams flounces away after page 19.

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"White Horse, Gold Dragon", written by "Lan Pam Thi"

The author name is in quotes because it turns out that "Lan Pam Thi" doesn't actually exist, or at the very least, didn't even write the book. This wouldn't normally be a problem, except the book won a prestigious literary prize in the Czech Republic.

Read the full story over here.

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Homophobe and notorius money-grubber Oral Roberts is finally dead.

He has this to say about gay sex: "The waste matter comes out of the body as poison, and he penetrates that part of the body in homosexuality. It's not to be put in the mouth of the man, or the mouth of the man or the woman…. It is the male organ, penetrating the vagina of the woman, the male and the female."

Here's a great response from one of the commenters on Gawker: "Isn't it fascinating how these folks like Mr. Anal Bob really seem to have the most vivid imaginations as far as what the sex lives of so called sinners are like?

A gay guy is like, 'yeah, I thought this guy was attractive, we went back to his place and had sex.'

Oral Dick here thinks like 'he drooled long spindles of saliva across his chest as he took the hard veined, throbbing penis across his moist lips, into the cavernous wet mouth, suckling the tip with his tongue, aching, throbbing, praying to the heathen gods for the seeds of sin to splatter his wide eyed eyes with hell fire. This is wrong. Insert penis in vagina. Ejaculate. Rinse. Repeat. Amen.' Ugh. Rest in a world without heaven or hell because neither exists, dumb fuck. Peace out!"

Also, what kind of evil parents would name their kid "Oral"? I mean, REALLY.

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In other gay news, you can now get gay married in the District of Carolina. New York may have been a disappointment, but at least there is still some progress being made.

Which is more than I can say for the Comelec, which rejected Ang Ladlad's appeal to be allowed to run for party list. Here's hoping that the Supreme Court comes up with a much more favorable ruling.

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A weightlifter in Chile gives birth during practice while a dad in England delivers a baby using Google.

Sometimes I love the world.

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PRETTY.

I am so happy that I haven't completed my collection of Nabokov novels, because that means I can still get to buy these beautiful editions. You can find the rest of the covers here.

Them crazy kids!

I envy this kid's room.

After all, how many 14-year-olds do you know of that have posters of Blue Velvet on their walls, much less even know what Blue Velvet is?

It's also admirable how he's managed to wrap his mind around his family life -- he's the son of a gay man and a straight woman -- and just seems to be enjoying being a teenager in New York City.

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This guy is certainly enjoying being a teenager as well.

He's a student from St. Peter's Secondary School in Canada, and he was photographed by the Toronto Metro making a splash at the Kinsmen Santa Claus parade. In such an unintentionally funny way.

Because you see, it's not just an ordinary picture of a student frolicking with his classmates under a spray of water. It's a picture of a student WITH HIS PENIS HANGING OUT, frolicking with his classmates under a spray of water.

And he's certainly not ashamed of what's on display, if the commenters on the Torontoist are to be believed.

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When you've got the words "forever-flaccid penis" and "group fisting" in a letter meant for your previous superiors, then you know it's going to be a great read.

The previous management at The Harvard Crimson appears to be composed of ginormous tools, if the group e-mail sent out by staffers is to be believed. Maybe some day, when I retire, I can be so ballsy as to write something like that.

Band Aid

I think it's been more than a month now since I last put up a post, and trust me when I say it's not from lack of trying. It's just that the past month at work has been incredibly taxing, what with a co-worker going on maternity leave when our group is understaffed already, and I've had to do a lot of extra work.

It hasn't been all bad, though. Just yesterday I was covering Rock Ed Philippines' Rock The Riles, an annual event held in celebration of International Human Rights Day. There were about 120 bands scattered in eight stations of the Metro Rail Transit, and while it was tiring making my way from station to station, it certainly was exhilarating to listen to these bands play and have the opportunity to dance and sing and just make a fool of oneself on the train stations without having to worry about being cuffed by guards.

The week before that, I was coordinating with Rock Ed for a project our section was working on for our office, which involved me helping organize a concert featuring four bands. Definitely not the easiest thing in the world to accomplish -- I was running around wringing my hands up until the very last minute.