All-you-can-eat brunch.  The most important meal of the day.

Atari.  To me, video games reached their high point in 1982, thank you very much.

Backstreet Boys and N’Sync.  Never mind how bland their music is; aren’t they the ugliest pop stars in history?

Bad art.  Don’t tell me it’s all subjective.  If a two-year-old can do better, it ain’t art.  If it requires an explanation, it ain’t art.  If it’s a canvas painted black, it ain’t art.  Wallpaper maybe.  Not art.

Bart Simpson.  My role model and hero.

Bears.  One’s definition of what a bear is is subjective.  Here is mine.  Size is the first requirement.  No true bear has a flat stomach.  The quintessential bear is also hairy.  On the face, the chest, the arms, the legs… the more the better.  And finally, there's something that makes a man a bear that defies explanation.  Some x-factor, an essence, a look in their eyes maybe...  Camille Paglia, of all people, best summed up the appeal of bears in a column she wrote on the subject.  Allow me to quote:  “In their defiant hirsuitism, gay bears are more virile than the generic bubble-butt junior stud, since body hair is stimulated by testosterone.  The bear is simultaneously animalistic and nurturing, a romp in the wild followed by nap time on a comfy cushion.  The bear offers warm, soothing regression to what Freud calls the polymorphous perverse, the whole-body tactility of early childhood.”  Bullseye.  (Click here for The Illustrated Bear Manual.)

Bears as a movement. In the gay community, the word 'bear' started out as something used to describe a physical type.  That's how it should have stayed.  But then someone with too much time on his hands had the bright idea of stretching that into an organization.  I don't think there's anything wrong with a bunch of bears getting together, but it gets quite silly when they start calling it a 'movement'.  As far as I'm concerned, 'bear movement' = 'bowel movement'.

Bearspeak. In Bear magazine, or on bear web sites, you'll notice that 'your' is often spelled 'yer', and that all verbs end with an apostrophe instead of a 'g'.  You see, these guys think this contributes to their rough-edged image, when in fact it just exposes them as the lame poseurs they are.

Bears who are only attracted to other bears.  So unfair.  Come on, guys, share the wealth!

'Beat It', by Michael Jackson.  That's some song, huh?  I don’t really have anything to say about it.  I just wanted something to separate Bears and Belching.

Belching.  A repulsive habit which has inexplicably become socially acceptable.

Canadian singers who make it big in the States.  They suck.  Five cases in point:
1. Alanis Morissette.  She labours under the delusion that she’s a poet.  God knows her songs are catchy.  I’m still trying to get out of my head lazily written, rhythm-challenged lines like, ‘How about stopping eating when I’m full up?’  (link to the automatic Alanis Morissette lyric generator)
2. Shania Twain.  She gives feminism a bad name.  The real message of her first big hit, ‘Any Man of Mine’, is that she should be allowed to act like a bitch, and if men want her to put out, they better tolerate it.  (If that kind of message came from a man, he would be lynched in the town square.)  She’s been putting out pandering middle-of-the-road mush ever since.  Husband-producer John ‘Mutt’ Lange (who has the tendency to make everything sound like Def Leppard) is a big part of the problem.
3. Celine Dion.  I know the secret of her success.  The devil gave her powerful vocal chords and took her soul in exchange.  I used to like her when she sang in French; she concentrated less on proper enunciation and more on the heart of the songs.  And she had better writers, too.
4. Bryan Adams.  He lost me after 1984’s Reckless.  He used to make light, fun, meaningless music.  Now he makes overblown, ‘what, him again?’ meaningless music.  John Lange makes another appearance here as partaker of blame.
5. Barenaked Ladies.  Forced wackiness doesn't appeal to me.  No matter what they or their fans say, they’ve always been a novelty band.  And when they try to be serious, you can tell they’re still smirking on the inside.
(For a list of real music, click here.)

Casual sex. To quote Sky Gilbert in his rant-fest St. Stephens, as he derides the concept that casual sex is an empty act:  "The only time you feel empty after promiscuous sex is when you expect it to be something it isn't - emotionally fulfilling."  Just relax and enjoy the ride, for god's sake.  We're only on this earth for a short time.

Chat room handles. Like personalized license plates, they are usually either idiotic or make sense to no one except their owners.  Here are eleven of the worst ones I found (with assistance from my friend David) in Gay.com's Toronto rooms:
aznboi000:  What is it with this irksome trend of misspelling 'boy'?  And what do those zeroes stand for - the number of dates his snazzy handle has brought him?
bittr:  Yeah, that'll make you real popular.  I certainly have my bitter moments (most of which are spewed onto this page), but I don't use it as a way to entice men to chat!
buddyguy70:  Sounds like someone who says 'gee whiz' a lot.
Disney Cast Member_23:  For those masses of cartoon character fetishists out there.
Gerry ok:  Whew!  This guy knows how to make an impression!  I see a slightly hunched-over man in brown shoes, a suit and tie from 1963, and a glazed look in his eyes.  Probably buddyguy70's brother.
hotone6969:  Using 69 in your handle stopped being original or cute when the second guy used it twenty years ago.
Immortal Beloved:  Who on earth would willingly give the time of day to such a nakedly gigantic ego case/drama queen?  I see a young, queeny twink staring at himself in the mirror pretending to be Liza Minelli.
9inchworm4rice:  Hey, it's got all the ingredients for a great chat room handle:  First, come up with the most repulsive slang term for a penis.  Add to that the apetizing superimposition of worms with rice, and you've got a winner!
Sparkle2*:  Isn't Sparkle one of those Barbie doll knockoffs?  Yeah, I wanna date that.  What amazes me is that Sparkle1* was already taken.
thepapillon:  Animal names can be fun, but here I visualize a butterfly stuck to my dick.  Not good.
tiddlywinks:  What, were 'prancing fag' and 'faerie queen' already taken?

Computers. Hate 'em.  I am, however, a fan of irony.

Critics.  People wonder why I like movie critics.  I'll tell you why:  they're smart.  What separates a (good) critic from the general viewing public?  When a good critic speaks, it says something about the movie.  A non-critic’s comments usually say more about that person.  And those comments are usually limited to either "That was the best movie - ever!!!" or "That was the worst movie I've ever seen!"

Cyclists riding on the sidewalk.  I swear the next time I see one the fucker’s going down.

Enya.  If I hear one more time how this New Age airhead's muzak 'soothes the soul' or some such happy-crappy, I'm taking to the streets with a machine gun.

Extreme anything. Or, as it is usually spelled, X-TREEM!!! which should give you an idea of the level of intelligence this type of hype appeals to.  What's next, extreme curling?

Frozen Pizza.  A top 10:  1) Kraft Delissio, 2) President’s Choice Raised Edge… uh, I can’t think of any other frozen pizzas that don’t taste like damp cardboard.

Gay movies.  I’ve seen some good ones, but I have yet to see a great one.  Also, I’d like to see one where the characters are past their twenties, have facial hair, and don’t look as boring as GQ models.

Girlfriends of huge rock stars.  I.e. Yoko Ono, Courtney Love.  Will everyone get off their backs already, and admit they're just jealous?

Owen Gleiberman.  The only film critic I really like.  His reviews are intelligent, lucid and penetrating.  His greatest achievement is to be able to judge a film purely on its own merits, without paying any mind to what surrounds it (this is a guy who would go to the next Friday the 13th installment with an open mind).  If he stopped writing for Entertainment Weekly I would seriously consider canceling my subscription (are you listening, EW?).

Hollywood.  Unjustly demonized.  There are just as many bad independent or foreign films as there are bad blockbusters.

Hollywood stars. Also underrated.  They can act!  Proof:  watch Jim Carrey in The Truman Show, Tom Cruise in Magnolia, Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich, Brad Pitt and Bruce Willis in 12 Monkeys, Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon, Harrison Ford in The Mosquito Coast.

Husbear.  This cutesy term is the single most irksome one ever coined by the gay community.  For bears with the souls of twinks.

The Internet Movie Database.  A very valuable resource to any film fan.  But why oh why did they have to let the masses post their opinions?  Reading a few of those reviews is depressing news for anyone who had faith in human intelligence.  I've seen people on there complain that it bothered them that Al Pacino's character in Insomnia wasn't 100% a hero.  That's what makes him interesting, you boobs!!

Internet 'relationships'. I think the quotation marks tell the whole story, but here I go anyway:  How deluded do you have to be to think you know someone well enough to call them your boyfriend when you've only 'talked' to them on the internet?

Internet shorthand.  It began as a way to overcome the limitations of online communication, but it is now vastly overused and misused.  imho, it has become an irritating form of illiteracy, going hand in hand with the average user’s lazy spelling and grammar.  It makes me : (  But then I start thinking about blowing up computers, and I get all : ) (evil grin, lol)

Is Tom Cruise gay? Who gives a flying fuck, and what business is it of yours anyway?

Jordans Morning Crisp with strawberries.  The best cereal in the world.

Mass e-mails. What I'm really addressing here are those factory-manifactured fake-goodwill e-mails that have been forwarded twelve times before they got to you.  You know, the ones with a picture of a supposedly cute monkey that purport they will only bring you good luck if you clog up the mailboxes of twelve more victims?  Actually, maybe they're not so bad; I think I've actually become a better person by automatically throwing them in the trash the second I recieve them.

Mice, cats, and babies.  They’re cute, but I don’t want them in my house.

Mr. Tasty.  These guys never heard of truth in advertising.  The worst burger in Toronto.

Onions.  The insidious devil’s food.  People stick them in everything, thereby ruining egg salad, shepherd’s pie, pizza, hamburgers… (see also Raisins)

The penis.  It doesn’t do anything for me.  I mean, I’m glad it’s there; it serves a purpose.  Looking at it just doesn’t turn me on.  Sue me.

People who talk during movies.  The fifth-lowest life form on the planet, after murderers, pedophiles, rapists and homophobes.

Pics.  I am referring here to the photos used by guys looking to hook up on the internet.  Why is it that the vast majority of those photos are bad?  I'm not talking about the subject, but the quality.  You know what I'm talking about:  pictures that are out of focus, pictures where the subject is too small, pictures that only show a certain part of the person (just the face, just the cock, etc.), pictures where the subject has a goofy look on his face...  How am I supposed to decide if I want to meet up with you if I can't get a clear idea what you look like?

Brad Pitt. I'm pretty tired of hearing how 'sexy' he's supposed to be.  All I feel when I look at his face is sorry for him.  My picks for gorgeous men who are in the public eye:  ex-football player / actor Lyle Alzado (Destroyer, Ernest Goes to Camp), wrestler Steve Austin, actor James Gandolfini (The Sopranos, The Mexican), actor Richard Karn (Home Improvement), strongman Harry MacDonald, baseball player Mark McGuire, director Anthony Minghella (The English Patient), actor David Morse (The Crossing Guard, Contact), weightlifter / actor Gus Rethwisch (House II, The Running Man), and actor Ving Rhames (Pulp Fiction, Con Air, Rosewoood, Striptease).

Post-secondary education. Its ostensible goal is to prepare you for a career, and that's the one thing I didn't learn in seven years of attending university.  Instead I learned that greed is the first agenda of post-secondary institutions.  A good example is the film program at Ryerson in Toronto.  What I learned there over my four years could (and should) be compressed into two years.  But we can't have that, because it would mean less income for Ryerson.  I also believe that parents and teachers who push kids to attend universities instead of colleges are misguided.  From what I've seen, there is generally much less bullshit, less time wasted, and more useful material taught at colleges.  And finally, I don't think students who just graduated from high school know what they want to do for a living.  I am basing this on the fact that roughly three quarters of the people I know are not doing for a living what they studied after leaving high school.  Either the school curriculum should be changed so that teens are better prepared to make such a weighty decision, or graduates should spend a year or two working in the real world before they choose a career.

Pretension.  My #1 pet peeve.

Proper spelling and grammar.  Something I value greatly.  And yet I continue to use the internet.  Go figure.

Radio.  It’s great if you like listening to the same twelve songs over and over.  I can do that with an album that I actually like just by hitting the ‘repeat’ button on my cd player, thank you very much.

Raisins.  Nature’s candy?  More like the devil’s candy.  They get stuck into every second dessert, thereby ruining rice pudding, cinnamon buns, oatmeal cookies…

Reggae.  I don’t get it.

R. E. M.  The greatest band ever.  No arguments.

Lisa Schwartzbaum.  Another film critic for Entertainment Weekly.  I don’t know whose cousin she had to fuck to get the job, but her reviews are shallow and weightless.  I often finish reading her write-ups feeling that I would have gleaned more insight from looking at the movie poster.  I remember her wasting half her review for Bound discussing star Gina Gershon’s popularity on the internet.  What about the movie?!

Scooters.  Coming this summer to a garage sale near you.

Self-righteousness. My #2 pet peeve (if you're reading this alphabetically you've already passed #1).  A good example is this guy who responded to a personal ad of mine.  After he found out I was looking for sex, he informed me that sex is sacred and should only be shared with someone special.  I replied that I respected his views, even though they differed from mine somewhat.  But he wasn't done showing me that he was better than me yet:  "Being from the U.S., we are educated about the dangers of casual sex, etc..."  Unlike us Canadian barbarians, I suppose.  He went on to assure me that he didn't mean to offend me; he had simply noticed that different countries had different values and morals.  It doesn't take much reading between the lines to see what he really meant:  that those foreign values are inferior to his.  (Click here for examples of American ignorance that are actually amusing.)

The Shining.  Loved the book.  But the movie is overrated.  Atmospheric and creepy, yes.  Visually brilliant, yes.  But seriously flawed by Jack Nicholson’s campy, mood-disrupting (if admittedly amusing) performance, and by the world’s worst actress (Shelley Duvall) at the peak of her powers.

The Simpsons.  At its peak, this tv show was not merely hilarious; it reached the level of genius.  But that was 1993.  It’s been a slow, steady decline ever since.  Still occasionally clever, but way past its prime.

Slow walkers.  If I have a flaw, it is impatience.  Sidewalks should have special lanes for slowpokes.

Soft rock.  An oxymoron on the scale of ‘civilized warfare’.

Star Trek.  The science fiction equivalent of dry imitation oatmeal.  Gene Roddenberry doomed this franchise to mediocrity from the concept stage.  His idea of a utopian future for the human race amounts to everyone being dutiful and dull.  You’ll notice that none of the characters have any real flaws, and as a result they are devoid of personality (the last incarnation, Enterprise, where the characters are allowed to express actual emotions, is the exception).  Forgive me if I find this bland 'utopia' scarier than the bleak post-apocalyptic future of other sci-fi creations.

Stereotypes.  Gotta love’em.  Barbra Streisand, musicals, dance music and The Wizard of Oz don’t do much for me, and I thought Moulin Rouge was merely okay.  Does this mean the gay police are coming to take my club card away?

"Straight-acting". When gay men say it, what they really mean is 'masculine'.  Congratulations to whoever coined this phrase, which sets us back twenty years by reinforcing the stereotype of the effeminate gay man.

Sucking chest wound.  My favourite phrase.  Don’t ask me why.
Runners-up:  'cash money', 'snack treats', 'urine-soaked hell-hole', 'your money cheerfully refunded', and of course, the ever-charming 'chompin' at the bit'.

Tomato.  It's pronounced tomayto, you pretentious candy-asses.

Unsubtlety. Because it is a symptom of low intelligence.

The Village Rainbow.  The pandering excess of gay words in the name of this restaurant should tip you off that quality food and service are the last things on their mind.  The place to go for recycled fries and undercooked eggs.  Gets my vote for Toronto’s worst restaurant.

White trash.  I know it's wrong, but I have a prejudice.  Were those people put on Earth just to make the rest of us feel superior?

“Why would anyone want a second set of that?!”  The most frequently uttered words by photo store employees.

Ye olde tyme spellinge style.  Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh!!