Stanford admissions.

Last night CJ annoyed me while we were watching SEX AND THE CITY by telling me repeatedly that I reminded him of Stanford Blatch.

I look nothing like Stanford Blatch. I don't really act like him.

I think CJ - who is prone to the expression, "Oh, that's so GAY!," and uses heterosexual buffer seats at the movie theater - is daring to suggest that I'm like Stanford only because I'm gay.

"I think your friend Kevin's more like Stanford," I said. "He wears brighter colors and doesn't have any hair."

"Yeah, but Kevin's very masculine," CJ said.

Great.

It reminded me of when well-meaning friends told me that I reminded them of Jack from WILL AND GRACE, which is not a compliment.

I'm tempted to tell CJ that he reminds me of "Insert Random Heterosexual Male Character Name" here because, well, they're both straight.

And, you know, very masculine.

"Hey, you know, you remind me of Ted Bundy from that serial killer movie," I would say. "You and he are both into girls."

I ran CJ's comparison by my friend Lupo.

Lupo, comparing me to Stanford, said, "Well, you're both gay ... and you both are prone to talk in quips. And that's it."