This is Bryan.  He is a sweet boy.  He is studying advertising here in New York City.

He wanted to help me make a pie.

What was I gonna do, say no?

Me:  We’re making Banana Cream.

Him:  Good thing that’s my favorite.

Me:  Yes it is a good thing.

Him: I suppose it is.

Me:  I suppose I agree.

Him:  I suppose I do too.

There was a lot of supposing going on.

Me:  So you’re a student?

Him:  That’s right.  I study advertizing at SVA.

Me:  Sounds fun.

Him:  It’s a lot of work.  I work almost every day of my life.  I have like, three jobs.

Me:  Really?  Me too!

Him:  Oh?

Me:  Yup.  I bake specialty pies for benefits and celebrities.  I do comedy.  I also do commercial acting.

Him:  What’s that?

Me:  Acting for commercials.

Him:  Have you done anything I might have seen?

Me:  No.  Regional spots outside New York, and online stuff for boring companies that do things like make pressed aluminum.  Exciting.

Him:  I suppose.

Me:  I suppose not.  But I get by.

(Uh…  This didn’t really happen.  We didn’t really have a Lady and the Tramp moment with a banana.  You’re imagining things)

Him:  I cook and clean up after a guy who pays me to do that for him.

Me:  Doioioioioioioing!

Him:  What’s that?

Me:  That’s the sound of me getting a boner thinking about you cleaning someone’s house and cooking for them, naked.

Him:  I didn’t say naked.

Me:  I have a very active imagination.  Let me have my fantasy.

Him:  I suppose I will.

Me:  What’s your family like?

Him:  My dad was a jerk.  My mom worked her ass off every day to support him.  He was a drunk to end all drunks.

Me:  Was?  Did he die?

Him:  No.  But he’s gone now.

Me:  Oh.

Him:  Yeah.  It really motivated me to get up and do something with my life.  Even if I have to work really hard to achieve it, like I am now.

Me:  That sounds about right.  I’m proud of you.

Him:  You don’t even know me!

Me:  Even so.  I’m proud.

Him:  Hm.

Me:  Hold up.  Where did that bootie come from?

Him:  Ha.  Do I have a butt?

Me:  No, you have two of them.

Him:  Heh.

Me:  Usually you don’t see a butt like that on a guy your size.

Him:  I did a lot of bike riding back in Jersey.  6 miles a day or so.

Me:  Well.  Remind me to thank the good people at Schwinn.

Him:  Why?

Me:  Doioioioioioioioing!!!

Him:  Stop it, weirdo.

Me:  Hm.

Him: I really like this neighborhood.

Me:  Me too.

Him:  I’m moving here in 10 days.

Me:  What?

Him:  I’ll be living a few blocks from here.

Me: Uh oh.  That sounds like it could be trouble.

Him:  It might be.

Me:  Uh oh.

Him:  Don’t get your hopes up.  Jerk.

Chocolate Banana Cream ETC.

I think it’s getting there.  I made another banana cream pie the other day.  It was delicious.  I’m getting better at this one.

I made it for my friend Chris – who is not really a good friend, considering that he never came over to get it.  He offered to help me with the HTML code for PIEFOLK.  I made the pie for him, as a thank you.  He stood me up.  And as of yet, he hasn’t explained why.  Weird guy.

I’m tired of friends acting weird.

Maybe it’s February talking.  Then very dead of winter.  People start acting…  strange.  Affection starved, but in a sluggish, lethargic way.

It’s not so much that the late winter brings out ugly behavior, but that layer of New York-y inconsiderateness might be a little denser this time of year.

Keep in mind – I’m just complaining – and  I don’t really even have too too much to complain about.  There are people around me that really care for me, and I’m grateful.  I also have the respect of some very talented, very brilliant colleagues in the comedy world.  I’m lucky.  But I’m tired of people acting weird, in that February sort of way.

Yes.  I get the irony.

I’m a grown-ass man who hangs out with  neighborhood gays, baking, scantily clad, at all hours of the night.  So where do I get off calling anything weird?  I get off right here.  It’s my damn blog, after all.

Here’s a list of weird stuff that bugs me:

*Social awkwardness (of the non-charming variety)

*Not returning (or at least acknowledging) compliments


*Trying to impress me by being mean to a retail employee

*Trying to use backhanded compliments confuse me when you flirt ( that only works on people with low self esteem, dummy).

*Those gauge ear-rings that stretch your ears out, Africa style.


*Information hoarding

*Deep eye-contact that feels nice until you break it and say ‘WHAT?’ in a tone of voice that sounds like an indictment.

*People that get a macho kick out of being a ‘top only.’

*Olde Timey handlebar mustaches.

*People that put up walls with their sense of humor (except for me and my hilarous friends)

*A&E’s Intervention

Anyway.  Knock it off, Winter.  Stop making everyone (myself included)  act so weird.  I mean, except for the weirdness we exhibit normally, on a summer’s day, after a nice picnic in the park, where me and my weird date wear gay looking speedos, and sing songs with our ukuleles.  After eating blueberry pie, and catcalling a nearby soccer practice.  I want that kind of weird back.

I want to feel warm, and languid and odd.  Like a Rufus Wainwright song recorded in a sauna.

I guess that feeling’s not so far off.

I’ll power through.

Please do the same.



Enjoy the pie, Jerks.