Thursday, December 27, 2001

...the boyfriend gets back in today so I was up at the crack of dawn cleaning - shit I wasn't shocked I grew up to be a whore - but a "domesticated whore" ??? Plus, last night and this morning I was taping porn for the friend who is watching BABY for us while we are in San Diego for New Years - he gets 2 Falcon International, 2 Falcon and 1 Bel Ami - for all the money I've shelled out on porn in my life I never feel exactly guilty duping.

...leave Saturday for San Diego for 4 days of partying and fun to welcome in the New Year - I need the de-stress time. Decided to accept the job with Jerry as the Operations Manager/Associate ....we'll see what he thinks of what I'm asking, should put me quite a bit over what I was even making as a Director (finally get to travel again and come torture, er - uh, I mean - "visit" some of my favorite Bloggers in their respective cities). I think it's time to say goodbye to corporate life and take an opportunity to run the show more my way (INSERT HERE: Me as Mary Tyler Moore throwing my hat up in the air in the big city...."your gonna make it after alllllllll". )

Let's see if I eat these words before 2003)

....There will be no time to post over the next week so I wish everyone a wonderful New Year (especially Jonno, Blogstalker, Encorswish, Jockohomo, Mermaniac, Dewayne and BJ who gave me much needed advice, humor and dirty comments over the past year - you know which one applies to you - when I needed them). Charlie and Jonno - your warmth singlehandedly helped me survive my cold, lonely days in Milwaukee (sincerely - Thank You)...and I would have never even started down this road if it hadn't been for Bill egging me on in the early days. (Sorry I'm not throwing in links but I'm in a rush).

....Happy 2002 gang!

Monday, December 24, 2001 work - working on a database project for the boss. Got really toasted last night and was invited to what would have been an extremely hot three-way...but I diligently remembered that I'm taken and stopped flirting before I ended up in boyfriend prison.

...things ended up going really well with the boyfriend and I on our Christmas Friday night. He really surprised me by managing to make every gift about something that geniunely interested me...even got a little teary-eyed - I'm just a big sissy sometimes. Yes - we did "it" in front of the dog...luckily she was really enjoying her bone from Three Dog Bakery and just looked the other way - whew - no doggie therapist yet.

...feeling pretty melancholy with the whole holiday starting today and the boyfriend on the other side of the country, I suddenly seem out of sorts "left to my own devices" (did you start humming the Pet Shop Boys tune when you read that or is it just me and my misplaced pop sensiblities?)

BABY is wandering around the office. Already pooped on the carpet and was quite proud.

alrighty just not feeling clever today...I sincerely wish you all a wonderful Christmas Eve and Day - I hope you have someone close with you tonight and feelings of warmth - both inside and out. Cheers!

Friday, December 21, 2001

...well the boyfriend and I decided to launch into one of those "are-we-really-having-a-fight-about-not-having-a-fight-because-we-were-about-to-have-a-fight" fight's last night, 30 minutes before we left to have dinner with my parents...the stress was complemented by my boyfriend (who yes I love with EVERY fiber of my being) pulling his - "I'm not going to speak to you except in Boolean code (YES/NO), but when you give up trying to engage me in conversation I'm going to look at you and say - so your gonna sulk now??"...this is further complemented by the huge smiles, big hugs attitude every member of my family gets at dinner (the folks took us to Red Lobster - could we appear anymore white trash??) and then after dinner, back in the car, reversion to said previous tactics #1 and #2 (but the upgrade on #2 to the so, you gonna be mad at me all night?? comment.)

2 years, 2 months and our first real Christmas celebration with my family and I was miserable. Not to sure the pup has to worry about seeing anything tonight.

I'm trying to shake it. Tonight is supposed to be "our" Christmas and since I was in Milwaukee last year, this will only be our second Christmas together. But I haven't shook it yet. I haven't wrapped his gifts yet. I haven't written all the beautiful things in his card yet.

I knew this before, I know this now and I will probably know this forever - the hardest job I have ever had in my life is being a boyfriend. Ups, Downs, the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. The greatest and most rewarding job I have ever had, and at the exact same time probably the most frustrating. Each time I think I've figured out all of my job duties and think I'm "exceeding expectations" - I'm thrown a cold glare and I rebound to "unsatisfactory performance on the job"

Can someone get me a "employee manual" for Christmas ????

Tuesday, December 18, 2001

damn this guilt.....I'm so behind on blogging it sucks. Holiday madness. Boyfriend leaves for Jersey for 6 days for Xmas while I stay here with my family. We'll be celebrating our Christmas this Thursday with my folks (so they can give him his presents) and then Friday (just the two of us). The new dog has been killing the sex life (I just feel so weird having her in the room watching - ya know. And she cries if she's locked out), but I really need to get it and give it on our Christmas night so maybe I can get her doggie blinders - suggestions ????

Friday, December 14, 2001

poor Winona, I mean - I feel your pain - I really can't afford a great party outfit for that long list of Christmas Shin-Digs lining up in front of me starting tonight either.....

Thursday, December 13, 2001

...not sure I ever thought so much of my waking life and vernacular would be centered around the word:


...but oh what a naive, young lad was I...POOP consumes me now - gleefully I call it out from the back patio for all to hear -


Standing clad in only boxers, Arizona State University sweat shirt, bare feet and a bed-head hairstyle only a psychotic killer could call a "coif" at 400am.....Poooooooppppppp, POOP, Poop !!!!!!!!

I love this dog, my boyfriend loves this dog, anyone who lays eyes on this dog - LOVES this dog (and if ever there be a person who doesn't - THEY WILL RUE (or is it "ROO?" THE DAY!)

'nuf said....I need to go think some more about poop.

Friday, December 07, 2001

things you realize about yourself only much later in life:

  • Your first "crush" would not really be the most painful heartache of all
  • Dogs trust you unequivocably, you feel the same depending on whats laying on the floor at the time
  • 95% of the time, YOU are the best "handjob" you've ever had
  • You didn't drive your Mother to drink, I mean SHIT you didn't even have a license for the first 16 years...
  • Talking about sex makes your Parents nervous, thinking about your Parents "having" sex makes you queasy
  • Legos were the coolest toy EVER
  • You should thank your parents every day of your life that they got you potty-trained - can you imagine going on a blind date in a diaper???
  • One day you will fall in love, one day you will find "the one", there is someone for everyone (thank GOD, you never got that tattoo for Valentines Day when you were 22 !!)
  • Talking dirty is not only fun, but for some it makes the Kama Sutra seem like a Easy-Bake Oven Cookbook
  • You will be happy, you will smile again, life really is a wonderous, beautiful gift to us all
sniff-sniff, I'm kinda choked up...

Wednesday, December 05, 2001

I've fallen in love....
She's black
She's furry
She weighs 10lbs
She poops
She pees
She tumbles
She rolls on her belly and wiggles tell she's rubbed

now I really have no spare time to write - I'm a father to a beguiling, black lab named 'BABY'

the corporate interview went incredible. the old man wants me to consider taking over his business in a year...all this glamour and I'm still doing this admin stuff for cash under the table.

Friday, November 30, 2001

i suck....
uh, i mean the other way...
well, yeah i mean that way too...
hell ya i'm good, damn good, make a preacher cry if could....
what, oh no, you no - i love you...
is there someone else???
GOD NO....
i'm just preoccupied with my own sense of being right now...
what? ...
what do i mean? ....
well sometimes life does this Robert Frost "A Different Path" crap to you, ya know?? you see the fork coming and you shudder all over (like seeing Tom Arnold or Roseanne naked)...
what ???? crap i don't know where i came up with that, who knows why half this shit comes out of my mouth....
what? really...
i like your shirt too...
so anyway - what was i saying ???? ....oh yeah - "the path" stuff...
well suddenly when you finally decide the whole world has turned their back - there's a knock at the door, then another...
(laugh) - you're right, where the hell were they for the past 5 months ???
(chuckles) - started to think the only one who called me were my creditors, that's over - all paid up.
so now I have this opportunity to go back into corporate life...
what? uh no, they haven't offered the job yet and I still have another interview, but since they rushed my through and are interviewing me under the radar, i'm feeling confident...
what? oh shit yeah, you said it, first time i've felt confident in months, it's like viagra for my professional well being...
what? no not really, don't really need the little blue pill, but shit you should see me if i take just half of it - feel like i'm my own little red woody forest...
anyway, so now i have these two paths, i can pay my dues with the sweet, rich, old man who wants to be my mentor and maybe seriously take over his business, or go back to corporate life and keep pursuing my career path...
yeah, tough huh?
well i've got a few more days to dwell on it....
what you want a hug??? crap me too....
yeah, that felt good for me too.......

Tuesday, November 20, 2001

Who knew how distracting working would be....finding time to blog is well - difficult to say the least.

I mean do you ever find yourself debating the priority of it and what it means to you???

Starting over at 32, new career (well - I mean - if I ever turn being the UBER-ADMIN into something), new friends and renewed commitments to my boyfriend, old friends and an old and new me...I'm having trouble finding the time and seeing the meaning.
Don't get me wrong, I've loved some of the connections I've made (you/they know who you/they are), I've loved the opportunity to start writing, joke, observe.

But with soooo much going on right now and the holidays already whooping our ass, and me trying to get back on my feet...
is blogging really the right priority for me right now ??

Friday, November 16, 2001

The diversity of my days lately is oddly dramatic. Yesterday I began my day by tooling around town in a Rolls-Royce Corniche Convertible (23 years old with only 28K miles on it - the car, not me - crap! I only wish!) and then end my day with a collection agency calling my boyfriends cell phone for $138 I was 60 days past due to the phone company in Milwaukee. Which is really good considering since my best friends are in San Diego and Los Angeles and boyfriend in Phoenix - my average land line phone bill was around $300 (not including my cell phone bill - ugh! At least I saved alot of $$$ moving)...anyway at least at no time yesterday did I get confused and think I actually was rich.

Here's the rub on the phone bill thing though and something I didn't know - if you owe them $$$ and they can't track you down - do you know they run a query on your most called phone numbers off your bill and they call them instead looking for you - does that seem shady or what?

Oh well - I was an upstanding citizen once.

Wednesday, November 14, 2001

alrighty....unfortunately I'm not in front of a computer at work, so my time to blog/email/IM/check job boards....has just been cut down immensely. My BOSS is a really sweet guy. He really seems genuine about having greater things in mind for me beyond Boy Friday (of course tomorrow I have to take his Mercedes Convertible in for emmissions - hey I'm starting over, paying all my dues again, I'm cool with that). At first I felt so devastated after 4 months I was taking a job as an admin, but I have to admit right now the micro-project, fast-paced, variety of it is great - no time for my mind to play the "I Should'a, I Could'a" game. And even if it's just to create a spreadsheet, run and pick up lunch or send some faxes....after 4 months of being nothing to no one (professionally), it sure feels nice to be needed again.

Friday, November 09, 2001

thanks Bill!
  • Choire gets how many hits a week???? It's the web cams!!!! Now we know how cute he and Philo are. I think the boyfriend would be a little concerned if I got a web cam.
  • I do not feel pretty when I'm hung over, but damn I just love to be bought drinks!
  • There seems to be some prerequisite that Arizona morning newscasters must be "blond", "perky" and "vanilla"
  • Thanks to Durran for the link!
  • I'm quite certain - though they are kinda cute - that our roommates cats are stalking me.
  • Actually you two, I thought the new NOLA living arrangements were more like this.
  • uh dear, sweet 8LDJ, did you have any say in this?
  • No more cookies and candy. I have to start doing cardio again soon....sigh.
  • Hmmmm, the thought of chasing you around with a plastic speedtrack piece - threatening to smack your ass......nope not laughing, yep, oh yes, much different type of smile on my face.
  • Am I a super model or what?
  • Favorite recent search phrase that pulled up my site: "Old Homo's".....'nuf said.

Thursday, November 08, 2001

"Being unemployed means throwing all your student loan statements in a box with the rest of your unpaid bills, and coming to the conclusion that if your really expensive education were worth all that you wouldn't be unemployed." spoken by IML's sexy teen spokesmodel

Dude - I know your pain, my 6 months of forebearance ("Oh sure 6 months will be enough, I'll find a new job in a month or two" - statement made over 4 months ago to my student loan issuer). Actually got my first credit card calls the other day too - first month late so their very chipper and actually feel bad about me being laid off in these tough economic times - let's see how they feel if I pushed it another month.

In recognition of Jonno's unemployment and a growing number of my friends (it's really hard to be as supportive once they too are feeling the crunch), I give you the "Signs You Are UnderEmployed":

  • When people say - "Hey, it's great you found a job", you respond "Yeah, but does this name tag make me look fat"
  • On future job applications you list your "current" job as "JUGGLER" since the underemployment position enables you to pay bills, but only by throwing several in the air at one time and then paying which ever one doesn't hit the ground.
  • You envy all the cash your friends who are sexy bartenders are making accompanied by vulgar sexual propositions and phone numbers. And then wonder if your actually more envious of the "cash" or the "vulgar sexual propositions".
  • The ranking superior your running faxes for makes $40K less then you were pulling in 5 months ago.
  • Starbucks Cafe Latte Skinny on Ice is for executives/bourgeois/hollywood starlets/the Bush Twins, I'll have the Dunkin Donuts Regular Blend, please.
  • No more Blockbuster Movie Rentals and "kitty"-vision at 3pm on a Tuesday.
  • Time to masturbate only once a day.
  • You rethink applying for a House Boy job in P-Town, Fire Island, Sagatuck (Hey - I know it's out of season, but let's face it I'm a little long in the tooth to be called a boy anyway)
  • You still have enough unused active mental energy to make lists like this.

Wednesday, November 07, 2001

I'm sure as a grown man I should be slightly embarrassed by this, but the Buffy Musical just ROCKED. Of course, it meant I had to tape the Simpsons and then race down stairs to catch the beginning of 24. Damn, I am my own growing sense of being uncool...time was I would have been at a bar shooting pool yucking it up - but now I'm a tv freak. oh well.
D'Backs parade is today. I really wanted to go, but people started showing up at 9pm last night to get in the stadium, and by 7am this morning the streets were filling up - 100's of thousands are expected. I am my own sense of fearing large, overly excitable crowds of people.

PS - I got the job (not the big deal one, but the one that at least will pay some of my bills til I get back to my career)

Tuesday, November 06, 2001

ok, ok, I'm grumpy in my 30's (early 30's ya know)....Seraphin explained her literary phobia's - mine usually were for any novel written by a sister from the Bronte clan.
I'm being bagged on by someone whose signature colors are bashful and blush - sweetheart, I assure you I don't want teenage girls reading this blog (well that excludes Bill - proof that there is a teenage girl trapped in all of us!) anyway.

Monday, November 05, 2001

Screw the Emmys....We're WORLD CHAMPIONS baby!

Sorry Stud, this series was amazing. You should have watched Roscoes explode when Gonzo hit the winning run. DBacks ROCK!

Saturday, November 03, 2001

Is it possible to be running in slow motion while inside the eye of a hurricane?

Images from the past week:

  • Lots of happiness in my heart having my buddy Curt in town. He calms me and makes me feel special.
  • The not so special feeling I had when I went after a 20 something punk who made a 'faggots' slur at my boyfriend and I at a coffee house..."yes" I lost my cool - I was ready to replace the breeders head with a Jack-O-Latern. Breeders be warned - some fags fight!
  • Me and the Boys looking very sexy in the Rough Trade Fire Dept gear...lots of raves on having a hairy chest amongst all those smooth boys.
  • The drool down my chin and 170lbs of "out-cold" body weight that Curt and my boyfriend heaved through the door at 5am on Saturday night/Sunday morning after ingesting 'G' (comment: I didnt BUY it, I didnt KNOW I was consuming it, and we still dont know WHERE it got into my drink)
  • A very frightened boyfriend who does love me more than words can describe and was very, very frightened.
  • An interview. Though for "under"employment - it's a job, I need to work, I feel useless and I've run out of $$$$.
  • Me, sitting by the phone still waiting for the BIG NAME COMPUTER COMPANY to call.
  • $1,300 in work that needs to be done to the car I didnt want to keep but had to keep, because you can't drive a 2000 SUV anymore when you have no job...but a 95 Toyota is only gonna stay healthy for so long.
  • A date. Just a movie (K-PAX, Kevin Spacey is AMAZING, the movie is OK) and a cheap dinner with my boyfriend last night. It was sweet. It was nice.

Thursday, October 25, 2001

I titter and swell with pride (actually maybe I'm retaining water) to know the following keywords are pulling complete innocents into the web of intrigue I call my blog:

  • tina yothers pics
  • philadelphia adult movie booth
  • gay erotic drunk fly (uh, do the mean like 'The Fly' like a faggy, boozy, Vincent Price turned fly)
  • Richard Greico
  • pain in groin back burning
  • groin pull swimming (why did this immediately bring John T Brown to mind??)

Wednesday, October 24, 2001

swapped some colors. so sue me. smooch.
I'm not sure the collective finger-crossing, well wishing and for some of you well - you just went beyond the call of duty to cross, something....anything. (INSERT HERE: Frustration, not alleviated through sex or booze)

Last word from said desirable hiring company was from an impressed VP last week (" 'name of hiring manager' will be contacting you shortly"). Hadn't heard anything so I sent a thoughtful email to said 'hiring manager' on Monday acknowledging how busy he must be and reaffirming my interest in the position. Nothing.

Don't you think if two of your respected co-workers came to you (one of them your superior) and said "You gotta hire this guy he's a steal!" would at least acknowledge him. (INSERT HERE: Panic not alleviated by drugs, disco or compliments)


Tuesday, October 23, 2001


Sounds like a sneeze, eh? Or maybe that attempt to swear after stubbing your big toe on the bed post at 3am when all you were really hoping for was the last chocolate chip cookie?

It's my acronym for the disorder that I have invented:
Phone Call Anxiety Disorder - A disorder that sends it's victim in roller-coaster fits of anticipation-clickety-clack-excitement-clickety-clack-disappointment-clickety-clack-despair (oh, btw, the "clickety-clacks" were my roller-coaster sound effects - high tech, huh?).

I have learned these last 4 months to hate the phone.
I can't tell you how often I hear it ring - and I wonder, I hope, I dare to dream:

"Hey, it's someone calling about my resume submittal"

"Hey I bet this is the call!"

And then, it's not.

My friends have grown use to this abuse - the despondent sound in my voice when I answer and it's just, well, just them. I don't think this is what Alexander Graham Bell was expecting. I find myself playing games...
leaving the phone downstairs, pretending I don't hear it, turning it off, not looking at the caller id;
just to draw out those first few moments of anticipation...of hope.

So, well - just be warned - if you call and get my voice mail - consider yourself lucky - he's so much nicer than me.

Monday, October 22, 2001

OK handsome, here's proof that I was in attendance at Tucson Gay Pride last week, these pictures aren't the ones I wanted...I lifted them from here.

My boy and me - why do I have one eye closed?Del,Jeffers and MikeBrian, His Girl Toy (name now forgotten) and Alex

Wednesday, October 17, 2001

Things have been crazy lately.

Last week:

  • Knock-down, drag-out fights with the boyfriend that pushed so far we had to sit down and ask each other if we could make it through this shitty stage (INSERT HERE: Honeymoon over)
  • A great, rather drunken weekend with my boyfriend, Brian, Alex, Dave, Del and others all in tow tramping around Tucson's Gay Pride shirtless, a little awnry and extremely flirtatious - excluding the raise the bar standards of this looker, it was easy to be 'Rock Stars' in Tucson. If any of my friends forwarded the pics to me, I will post them here. (INSERT HERE: My drunken need to grab my dick for every picture)
  • A lot of making up and two-way apologies between the boyfriend and I for allowing my jobless frustrations to come between what should be a long-life filled with happiness. (INSERT HERE: I guess I still have place to live)
  • A solid referral to an unpublished job opportunity with one of the few major computer companies I "haven't" worked for. (INSERT HERE: Request for everyone who reads this blog to cross their fingers, toes, and everything else)
  • Finally finished the free-lance search-engine-optimization/directory submission project I was working on. Now to just get all these other little projects off my plate.
  • Oh yeah....and as I said, something else is in the works, guess what???? (INSERT HERE: How happy I will be to post on my schedule NOT just when Blogger is working)

Thursday, October 11, 2001

Hmmmmm, somethings in the air and it's not just reasonable weather (79 Degrees - RIGHT NOW!).....

Wednesday, October 10, 2001

I always preferred Ernie's cheerful demeanor to HIS anyway.

Tuesday, October 09, 2001

Look HERE for my winner of the "What are you wearing?" contest (null where prohibited, contest not valid in states that fly Confederate flags)

Wow! Did I really spend my morning discussing set-ups, plots, production values, and artistic integrity of porn films with my favorite kitty hanging off a branch today.

I owe you something dirty, so here it is: Crumpled Dollar Bills - Episodes of My Youth in it's entirety - enjoy!

Sunday, October 07, 2001

Inspired by the lovely Jonno, I did my astrological birth chart stuff. Man, do I sound like one messy dope:

Sun in Leo, Moon in Virgo

You were born with the Sun in Leo and the Moon in Virgo. Internally, Leo has a fiery, ardent, and overpowering psychological makeup. The predominantly Leonian individual is dignified, proud, commanding, powerful, and magnanimous. These qualities are not very well expressed in terms of the personality, because the Moon in Virgo introduces a different influence; it restrains these characteristics, emphasizing your more practical side, such as performing services for others. These qualities conflict with the Leonian, and unless you somehow attempt to harmonize your internal self with your personality role you will be an unhappy person.

Notice that though internally you burn with the desire for authority and power, the role of the Virgo is that of service and a subordinate position. The only area in which Virgo and Leo do agree is that Leo gives tremendous clarity and perspective concerning the pride, emotions, and ideas of other people, while Virgo gives an analytical capacity which facilitates deep comprehension. Virgo inhibits the natural traits of a predominantly Leonian individual, causing you to occupy a lower position in life and to be subjected to much snubbing.

Others see you as a person who does not want to take the lead in all matters (although you secretly harbor the desire to do just that). You are attentive, careful, and observant. Outwardly, you are pure in love and sexual matters, but inwardly, you have a devouring passion. Try to harmonize the power of Leo with the cleverness of Virgo, and you will have total success, both in material concerns and in your relationships with others.

Ascendant in Virgo, Mercury in the First House

At the time of your birth the zodiacal sign of Virgo was ascending in the horizon. Its ruler Mercury is located at the first house.

This indicates that throughout your life you will assume a reserved, quiet, analytical, critical, and receptive attitude.

Although you are not an individual with a very strong ambition, you possess the ability to persevere and exert ingenuity.

Some selfishness is noted. However, if you are able to counteract this negative trait with your natural helpful and sympathetic attitude and address your positive qualities to resolve the problems of others then you will accomplish your highest spiritual duties and your degree of consciousness and perception will be expanded.

You are not afraid to work but you like to do things where you can use intellectual resources rather than mechanical ones. There is some independence here but don't try to be forceful about it because Virgo's natural habitat is one in which the person is led by some powerful authority and where the important decisions are best made by others.

You are very attentive to detail and this makes you a good worker, especially so in those jobs that require a great deal of precision and observation. You have a desire for purity and though you don't mind relating to others there is something that you do dislike: continuous intrusion of your privacy. What will your life be like? We think it will be one in which business and practicality are to be very important. Although we are not advising you to turn against your natural traits, which make you slightly cold and reserved, we would suggest that when in love you let yourself relax and respond so as to be able to return some of the affection you are receiving.

Life will find you in many situations in which you will function as advisor and counsellor; make use of these opportunities to project the power of your creativeness.

This makes you a person to whom success is available through personal effort. You are ambitious, swift, intellectual, and possess some sort of scientific vocation; your speech is fluent and eloquent. You are a useful and beneficial person.

Your activities should be those that are intense, varied and require intelligence. You love detailed work: writing, collecting, acting as a middle man, selling, and communicating. You are an excellent critic and analyst.

Moon in the First House

The Moon is in the first house. This position indicates that you are strongly influenced by your feelings and moods.

Your awareness of yourself is influenced by your momentary feelings, and this perception is subject to rapid changes of mood and emotion. In time, you will learn to understand why you react as you do to various situations, and then you can begin to change your response patterns and take more control of your life.

Others sense your lack of emotional self-sufficiency and tend to get involved in your personal affairs, even if you try to prevent it. You express your sensitivity through an emotional need to nurture and be nurtured by others. While you would like to have guidance and supervision concerning your goals and objectives, it would be better to achieve your aims independently so that you will not feel obligated to others.

The advantage of this position lies in your ability to sense other people's needs and desires.

In fact, you have a calming effect on people who are under stress, and this makes you ideally suited for working with the public.

Moon Conjunct Ascendant

The Moon conjunct the Ascendant shows that you have some emotional hangups. You want close, intimate contacts with others, but you tend to keep people at arm's length because you are afraid you will become obligated to them.

You are a mass of contradictions - making demands on people but complaining when they do the same to you; expecting others to make overtures to you and withdrawing when they do. Although you are highly imaginative, you react to stimulating people in a generally negative and critical way.

On the surface you are independent, but you yearn for a quieter role in which you can enjoy the comfort of knowing that someone really cares for you. This can only happen when you lower your defensive barriers and learn to compromise by meeting people halfway.

Saturn in the Ninth House

Saturn, the ruler of destiny, was found in the ninth house at the time of birth. This indicates that your concern over the impermanence of all things will urge you to restrict your personality traits and assume a position of caution and planning before pursuing any important matter.

In a practical sense, your attitude to all higher intellectual functions is that of a studious, serious, and meditative person. You must, however, be attentive to the possible presence of several negative elements in your intellectual make-up such as depression, fear, and severity.

Venus in the Eleventh House

Venus, the planet of beauty and love, was found in the eleventh house at the time of your birth. Your aspirations in life are very aesthetically oriented.

You strive for peace and harmony and if it were left up to you the whole world would be more humane, kind, and considerate. In your more personal relationships, Venus gives you the capability of obtaining substantial gain and assistance through your friends, who will desire to assist you with the best of intentions.

Sun in the Twelfth House

The Sun, the king of this celestial system, was in your twelfth house at the time of birth. This may indicate a life full of limitations, obstacles, and human opposition.

You are urged to make an about face and confront your own accumulated history. Take some time for introspection. It may result in a purification process accompanied by some remorse of conscience.

Internally, you are quite different from the way you present yourself externally. You possess a vast reservoir of energy that may be partially hidden even from your own awareness.

Your internal disposition is strong, commanding, open, and of a rare generosity. More and more you should try to bring these characteristics into the open so that they can overcome some of the less desirable aspects of your personality.

Thursday, October 04, 2001

Poor, poor Sharon Stone - things have been rough for her of late (the hubbie loses his foot to a huge reptile) and now the her massive headaches seem to be much more (well, at least it will take her mind off of 'Sphere' - I'm still befuddled why any of them made that crap)...well in an effort to offer the 'Distraction of the Day', I give you Sharon Stones Scar

Monday, October 01, 2001

Does anyone have an epiphany I can borrow? I need one.

Perhaps you could just lend me a fleeting moment of inspiration?

I'll be good to it - I promise. I'll feed it, bath it, rub it's tummy til it growls. We'll take nightly walks at sunset as the red, orange and golden hues of the day spill down over the horizon, breathing in the same hot, arid, Arizona air.

Being unemployed has robbed me of a lot of my natural spirit. I start working at a buddies art gallery tomorrow - nothing glamorous, just man labor stuff - moving bronzes, setting up for weekly shows/art walks, putting together mailings. I hope it helps, distracts me until something comes through.

Maybe I would settle for someone telling me a side-spliting, tears-down-the-cheek, think-your-gonna-pee-your-pants joke?

uh....I'm waiting.

Tuesday, September 25, 2001

Officially three months in to my state of unemployment, I'm starting to find it hard to smile when people say "Oh, you're gonna find something great - just be patient" get's hard to be patient and cheerful after three months of squashed leads and no paycheck. Anyhow - I had to distract myself today and came across this:

My favorite childhood cartoon all about a man who could morph into unimaginable positions - I haven't changed a bit!

Monday, September 24, 2001

OK - I suck. I got caught up in a fun-filled weekend of debauchery - I still owe ya the story. Hmmmmm I wish I had something bright and shiny to wave in front of you and confuse you. Hold it, I do. How 'bout some pics from the AZ Bloggers dinner from Friday night.

Oooh - an angle shot - soooo vogue! From Left: Me, Chris (Encorswish), Bill (Mermaniac) and Matt (Matt)Men selling sex!! From Left: Me, Bill, MattMe and my Boy!Would you leave these men alone with your blog??? From Left: Me, Chris, Bill and Matt

Thursday, September 20, 2001

Ok, too much depressing stuff in the air lately. I have completed the 4th installment in "Crumpled Dollar Bills - Episodes of My Youth" which will be showing up on my blog late tonight or's pretty racy (an embarassing conclusion - based on a true incident) so I feel a little funny about putting it on here, but hey - what else would you expect from me?

Get to snuggle up over an intimate dinner Friday night with these adorable bloggers.
Of course I may not be able to face them after the "Crumpled, Dollar Bills" stories.

These two better be whispering sweet nothings about me while holding NYC together. Oh Yeah! Happy Belated Birthday Charlie - this is gonna be your year to shine baby!

Monday, September 17, 2001

Tragically, Mesa, AZ (where I grew up from 10 yrs old to college) was the location of the first hate crime murder related to the WTC/Pentagon bombings. I am embarrassed and disgusted for my state.

Lucky and I were driving around the historic Coronado district looking at properties yesterday and drove right up into a Mosque with a protest and vigil going on for the slain man. They looked very unnerved to see us and we were watched very cautiously as we passed. How sad.

HATE is the most wasteful of all human emotions. It lays waste to that which is tangible and intangible in and around us all. HATE has never built a bridge or brought people together - HATE has one practice and it is destruction. I'm not some girly pacifist, I just prefer THOUGHT to accompany ACTION. I can only hope in the coming days and weeks that we practice tolerance with our fellow citizens of the United States and attempt to not only tolerate differences but embrace what makes them wonderful.

Sunday, September 16, 2001

Sorry, there just seems to be little value in what I want to say this week, compared to the enormity of value in the expressions I have read by others better equipped to comment on the devastation.

Very, well written piece (and of course yes I verified it's validity, for more thoughts by this journalist - go here):

This is an article by Leonard Pitts, a columnist
from The Miami Herald. It
appeared, Wednesday, September
12, 2001:

We'll go forward from this moment. It's my job to have something to say. They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say,
the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us?

What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.

Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause.

Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.

Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae -- a singer's revealing dress, a ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we
walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though -- peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.

Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that any or all of this makes us weak. You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.


Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect from some Hollywood block-buster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism
in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.

But there's a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.

I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.


You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On this day, the family's bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that's the case, consider the message received. And take this message in exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know what we're capable of. You don't know what you just started.

But you're about to learn.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

Wise words. Dumb words. Soothing words. Hateful words.

It's odd to see me having nothing to say. I just don't.

My loving thoughts go out to my friends in NYC and I am sooo happy to see many adored NYC Bloggers safe.

Been up since 6am my time watching it all unfold. Spent almost 3 hours trying to give blood (no I don't give a SHIT about the ban, I am safe - get tested every 6 months - I'll lie about my preference to give blood, sorry, but I will) - the streets in Central Phoenix were blocked with people trying to do the same - everyone was being turned away. There is now a week long wait to give blood (and I was there when they opened)

As I left the hospital. I watched crowds of people filtering into the church chapel to pray.


Monday, September 10, 2001

ok - comments aren't working and the pop-up windows are driving me over the edge. Comments turned off til further notice. But hey - I do respond to email (well not super fast or anything - but I try).

Wiped out from way too much partying with my very wonderful soul-mate/boyfriend/husband/confidante/buddy and friends. Watched "Hannibal" under some "influence" last night - very fucked up movie to watch when you feel like "your part of the movie".

For those interested 'Crumpled, Dollar Bills - Part 4' is forthcoming, not sure why I decided to change the writing format but hey - change is good, right - uh, guys...are you there.....?

Friday, September 07, 2001

Crumpled, Dollar Bills - Episodes From My Youth:

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

Verbally ushering out my courtier with my Greta Garbo-ish cries of "I want to be ALONE!", he exits, his 5'11", anemic-looking frame decorated with a balding crown of white hair and a protruding potbelly distending many inches over his gray, Sansabelt slacks. Normally this person's appearance would elicit a coo of "When are you due??? What trimester??, but he was neither a woman or I in good humor. Fleeing from the room he cried out in pain as he smacked his liver spotted hand against the fastening hook attached to the entry way, his cheap, tarnished wedding ring making a solid "THWACK!" against the solid metal of the hook.

Trapped in my grotesque position - part prayer/part Kama Sutra - I realized I had never secured the "privacy rope". For the uninitiated (but I mean really, which one among you would read me and be that innocent to said subject...baffling) at an adult bookstore, video booths are often given some method of insuring their occupants' privacy - if they so require. Some have doors (decidedly meant only for those who really, actually want privacy and if so, they should invest in a VCR, they're really cheap these days), some ropes, some nothing (this really sucks because you feel like your playing bouncer at the hottest club in town - "Sorry buddy, no more standing room inside...move along, now, move along"). The "privacy rope" is a 3 foot long rope encased in burgundy leather, heavy to the touch, with a dingy, silver hook on each end. Imagine the ropes used to hold off the swarms of press that line the premieres of Hollywood blockbusters and the "in" nightclubs of New York and Los Angeles; this is not that rope, this rope is it's short, weathered cousin, twice removed - through a nasty custody battle - now living in a trailer park in Yuma, Arizona with a malevolent, broken-down Lazy-Boy chair. The hook is meant to be inserted into a fastener attached to the wall - it is all very high tech. The rope is intended to be pulled across the entryway between the two fasteners, thus blocking the entryway. This simple ropes use is encouraged by The Management for your security and protection. Imagine the designer of the privacy rope first attempting to sell these beauties door-to-door under the name "Rope-Ryder 5000" - the ultimate in personal home security".

Necessity was not the mother of invention, she was a drunken sister-in-law who like to call after 1AM.

As I struggle to pull myself free from the flytrap "incident", I realize that the "Rope-Ryder 5000 Privacy Monitor" is only effective if used properly - I had left mine unfastened. Having left mine in the so-called "off" position I breathed a sign of relief that matters had not been worse.

Freed from my predicament I began the unpleasant task of brushing off my knees
- Hey what luck my lost dollar bill is stuck to my pants!.
I quickly fall back on my agnostic beliefs and renounce my so-called promises to better humanity and vacate the booth (yes - I acknowledge that I am by all probability going to hell - my much loved Irish-Catholic boyfriend, mumbles as much on numerous occasions). I wrestle (well, in as much as they really wrestle in the WWF) with my desire to continue my adventure and retain my opportunity to behave indecently. With several pints of Guiness ebbing through my blood stream, I feel my inhibitions still appropriately flattened to continue my quest. I justify staying. I mean really, what a total sense of loss it would be if I walked away in the middle of the riveting plot developments in 'Forest Hump':

Forest has gone to war (Vietnam) where without the oppression of female companionship, the moral weight of societies ethics and norms regarding tolerance of sexuality and minorities, Forest has developed deepened bonds of masculinity and brotherhood during the perils and ravages of war, allowing him to conquer his inner demons and free himself to love.

In other words: Forest is playing bottom to a really hot, black, platoon sergeant. I STAY.

As is with life, is the universe of the adult bookstore: Feast or Famine. This night is feast, but as with most buffets, the more selection we are offered the pickier we become:

"Oh, um - Nah, I'll skip the Blond Surfer, had that for lunch. Do you have any Gym-Bunnies or Discipling Daddy types?"

A parade of "himbo's", some sheep, some wolves come through the entryway of my booth. I am giving a moment to prepare, adjusting the package, checking the stance and perfecting the "rough-trade" stare; each time forewarned by the knocking sound of the unfastened privacy rope. In some ways I run my small time version of the Hollywood premiere after all, but instead of Superstars and Supporting Actors, I'm given Gaffers and Audio Technicians (I would kill for a Best Grip - I don't even know what he does, but I really think I like the sound of it).

As the screen begins to flash, my last crisp dollar buys me only 60 seconds more; a new entrant comes upon the scene. Perhaps he would be a character actor - one without top billing - but notable after the movie. He wouldn't have many lines, but the ones he does are pivotal. He is "Movie-of-the-Week" handsome, Sunday Night, not Friday Night. Think Gregory Harrison: handsome, a little over 40, well built. Somehow like a pair of Kenneth Cole, black, square-toe, dress shoes that you have had for a couple of years - they still look good, but admit it - they've lost their luster. (Yes - I also know, if it is possible - I am going to hell for comparing men to shoes.)

In a bookstore, a bar at closing time or any place in Wisconsin, there is a phrase often used in describing your prospective choice to friends: "Good for Here". I don't waste time with a self-inflicted, psychological interrogation of the morals of right and wrong (22 year olds rarely do), instead I run through a well-rehearsed mental checklist:

  • Am I Single? - check
  • Am I Drunk? - check
  • Am I Horny? - Sheep should be afraid
  • Is he "Good for here"? - Oh Yeah!

    Flashing lights, ringing bells, choirs sing, dogs bark - Jackpot, Baby, Jackpot!"
    I take a deep sustained breath - I smile, THAT smile - and watch as his masculine, tan hands reach to undo his brown leather belt.

    To Be Continued

Thursday, September 06, 2001

Crumpled, Dollar Bills - Episodes From My Youth : Part 1/ Part 2

A small, forest green plaque adhered with super glue to the entry of the video booth warns:

"No sexual conduct of any kind is permitted. One person per booth. Violaters will be asked to leave the premises - The Management".

The Bush and Clinton administration combined issued edicts more grounded in the truth and more certain to be followed through on than this banal threat. Since the plaque is eye-level and is afixed to not one, but to the entry way to every booth - my fellow vagabonds of the night are also aware of the rules. So it is with mob-mentality that we deliberately disregard these posted rules of acceptable behavior. For in a bookstore there are unspoken "rules of conduct" as in all sports, all board games and all horror movie trilogies:

  1. Do not speak, unless first spoken to. This is less courtesy then helpful to the mystique, some hot, rough trade guys - only look that way, open there mouth and your hanging with the gay version of "Screech" from 'Saved by the Bell'.
  2. Ask him if he's a cop, if he looks like one and says no ask him to just play along for fantasy sake. Woof!
  3. No chewing gum - what horrific blow job catastrophe could come from an over-eager, Doublemint-chewer turned sword-swallower in the dark.
  4. Never give your real name - sure your not Dirk Diggler, but hey this is your dollar bill, your booth - you're calling the shots.
  5. Never show the goods first. If his package looks like it was deliberately lost by Fed-ex then you'll be able to make a quicker exit.
  6. Keep your eye on the goal... and on your wallet.

    Honestly, we have all come here hoping to break the posted rules and the third unposted rule we breathe, each time, only to ourselves:

    I am never allowed to come back here again

    This is usually spoken softly when we pull into the parking lot and then mumbled loudly as we exit the parking lot wiping here and there and "aw shit, how in the hell did it get on there!"

    A pale bluish glow off the video screen affords the only light one finds in the booth (WARNING: This lighting often makes it possible to mistake a Tom Arnold for a Tom Cruise, it is safer to make decisions on conquests once your eyes have adjusted to the light). Images - sexual, erotic, disturbing and sometimes seemingly impossible, flicker from the screen - a pornographic strobe light giving way to your movements. "Forest Hump" ( Go Forest, Go!) plays on one screen, a soundtrack that would make the producers of 'Kojak' tap their shoes and well dialogue that leaves you reaching for the volume control - only to regret that it's already been touched (INSERT HERE: "Rule of Conduct" # 7 - Always carry a hankerchief or a roll of Bounty). A second screen offers previews of the other 1,185 channels of 'adult entertainment'. I feel vindicated with this buffet sampling of pornography as if I have hit double-coupons at the Piggly-Wiggly or stumbled upon a 2-4-1 at my favorite bar.

    Look at me - I'm multi-tasking! I'm thrifty!

    The floors never fail to make you shudder, elliciting a sound like masking tape pulled of shag carpet, with every step you take on the floor. A veteran knows to never, NEVER, retreive any item dropped to the floor. A dollar dropped becomes the priceless diamond around Rose's neck in the 'Titanic'; it, the neckless and some guy named Jack, are all forsaken once they disappear into the mysterious, murky darkness of the floor.

    I settle into the seat, a bright orange, plastic scoop creaking with distress under me. As I fumble with my belt and pull down my zipper I curse the choice of confining briefs. Urges build, among them a terrible simple yearning for release. My mind vascillates between shame and want.

    I grasp to remember the rosary - "Hey! I've heard them recite it in those 'Exorcist' movies".
    I fall to my knees - OOOOOH SHIT, BAD MOVE! - in prayer.
    Caught like a fly in a S&M flytrap, I struggle both physically and mentally to escape my sin.

    "Our Father who aren't in Heaven, who sure as hell wouldn't be caught dead here. Please forgive my trespasses and forgive those who trespass upon me - unless it's that really, really hot frat boy in the hall in the snug grey tshirt with the faded Abercrombie & Fitch logo and cargo pants - he can trespass ALL OVER my sweet little ass...uh, never mind - just please forgive me and unstick me from this floor and I promise I will never, NEVER come here again (is this being tape recorded?)"

    A confused passer-by mistakes my position to be an invitation and finds me unwelcome, unfriendly, embarrassed and quite filthy.

    To Be Continued.

Wednesday, September 05, 2001

Crumpled, Dollar Bills - Episodes From My Youth


(Oh Shit!)

In a bookstore (of the non-Borders, Barnes & Noble and B.Dalton respectable variety) a crumpled dollar bill is a terribly inopportune and frustrating thing indeed. For those envisioning neatly ordered rows of bestsellers, self-help books and coffee table free-weights ("Why - YES - I do find Ecudorian Animal Mating Habits fascinating, but a 75lb Copenhagen oak table isn't meant to hold up a 200lb coffee-table book") organized helpfully (yet not thoughtfully) for Stepford-esque Housewives who rampage through suburbia aided by Prozac and a disbelief of 25MPH restrictions on their shiny, leased SUV's, the piped in Muzak meant to resemble Enya (or more likely, modern day Enya meant to resemble piped in Muzak) and icy cappuchino's - slick with condensation prepared by disgruntled, disinterested, verbally disembowled teenage boys with multi-colored hair ("shaved here, yet oh, not there, thank you") waiting to be discovered and praised for their artistic genius; "Is that merely froth accenting my Latte or a mindnumbing work of Degas ?"

If you are envisioning this, don't, I'm not speaking of those places.

Instead, close your eyes, loosen your belts and picture something dirtier, seedier and honestly - undeniably, more arousing to most. Parking lots full at the witching hour (130AM bar closing time in most states - "I don't care where you go, but your not staying here" still ringing in my ears), hallways darkened enough to hide but with subtle, unflattering splashes of light - invariably red, sometimes blue -disclosing faces, bodies, the scurrying of the shamed or the bravado of those too drunk to care. Men linger, more shadow then real and less real then the air they breathe: stuffy, used, stale and spent. Here they are not searching for Grisham, Updike, Irving or Sedaris, but "Stealth-mode" cruisers seeking companionship and solace in the hands of a ten-minute friend with the aide of a few, crisp dollar bills. In the place of the music of Enya, is a symphony of sounds of the red light district, an orchestra of moans with an accompaniment of zippers (down, then up - for some: REPEAT) and of course the whirring of dollars finding their new home). Nightly the twenty-year-old stained, trampled-on and matted-down carpet surrenders and becomes an ashtray, a repository for things unsaid, undone, under foot - condom wrappers mingle with cigarette butt's, forsaken phone numbers linger - crumpled up used to dispense of chewed gum, and splatters of jizz, cum, spunk - dropped, shot and freed, plays havoc - impersonating tell-tale land mines carried away on the perpertrators shoe. The hallways appear to bow under the weight of it's visitors. Each carrying the burden of fear, apprehension, lust, want, need, hope and desire as if they were each a stick - tied neatly in bundles and slung over each man's shoulder.

The adult bookstore is a perverse playground of funhouse mirrors - devilishly entertaining, offering distorted glimpses of who we could be at certain moments.

"Whadd'Ya into Slugger??", hoarsley whispers one-passerby, a garage mechanic maybe - grit still beneath his nails, perhaps a high school football coach - still wearing recent victory on his brow, but more likely an accountant at Boring, Bored and Tiresome, Inc. - trying to forget the wife and kids at home.

I wish the younger one leaning against the wall, curious, embarassed (making him all the cuter) and strong (making him all the more desirable prey) would follow, yet it's the others - out from the red-laced shadows who wish to play "Tag" to your "It". Oh to be a young, Drew Barrymore in "Firestarter" and just implode these trolls in flames. Stare-Glare-Zap-Poof! Hah! Your a burnt marshmellow in the shape of a troll.

I select a booth, head swimming, crotch throbbing and fall prey to the wait...anxiously ironing out crumpled dollar bills with the heat of my hand.

To Be Continued

Tuesday, September 04, 2001

"Hold on to your hat, " my father said, "because here's the guitar you've always wanted."

  Surely he had confused me with someone else. Although I had regularly petitioned for a brand-name vacuum cleaner, I'd never said anything about wanting a guitar.

excerpt from Some Day I Talk Pretty, by David Sedaris

Monday, September 03, 2001

More than 25 years ago, back in 1977; I was the smallest kid in school (well I think there may have been a girl or two smaller, but they usually ended up being "March of Dimes" spokes models). Certainly, at the ripe, old age of eight, I was the smallest boy in the 3rd grade at Sabold Elementary School in the painfully, middle class suburbs of blue-collar, white-collar, junkyard dog-collar, Philadelphia.

Each Thursday at 1pm (following a well-balanced lunch of the color brown, green and white - served warm and red served cold and jiggling), my tiny 3"9', 58lbs frame could be found, but almost not seen, rushing down the hallways. My sweet-faced, melon-sized head (accentuated with a chestnut brown mop of hair with bangs that looked like string cheese and spent most of their time encaging my big, brown eyes like jail cell bars) often full of thoughts of Hardy Boys adventures and Evil Kenevil heroics. I would rapidly shuffle my perpetually untied Buster Browns down the stuffy, overheated - "class-is-in-session-better-have-a-hall-pass" halls with the shamelessly painted, orange glazed concrete floors and posters screaming "Reading is D-Y-N-A-M-I-T-E!".

My destination:    Speech Therapy

From age seven to my early and tortureous years of junior high school, I was cursed with a rapidly running mouth, a nasal-garrish-Philadelphian accent and "a lisp". Each attribute difficult to take at face value, unless your with the tour company for "RENT", but far more horrific grouped clumsily together

Weekly lessons, diligent practice and constant pressing of my tongue to the back of my front teeth when I was reciting, "She sells seashells by the seashore" (ala Cindy Brady without the curls and well only "half" the sass) didn't offer nearly half the encouragement to improve, that bullying and put-downs from boys with names like "Rusty" and "Pepper" during 7th grade gym glass (an oddly homo-erotic and homo-phobic institution for pubescent humiliation if ever there was one) brought forth in me

My parents were always so proud at how quickly I overcame my lisp once I reached Jr. High school - reasoning that the timing with puberty must be more than coincidence - and be credited for the transformation. I weakly smiled and often retreated to my boyhood bedroom and practiced words like "Stop saying that Stupid Shitheads" and rubbed my scraped knee or bruised arm, like a genie's latern for good luck.

This is all came to mind the other day when the drunken straight guy at dinner seemed so amazed and admiring of my bruiser physique, quick wit and rough exterior...maybe I let myself down by not telling him how I earned it, maybe I should have just smiled and not let it matter, but somewhere in the back of my head - hidden behind years of forgetting, I heard a kind little boys soprano voice chirping - lisping - "thhhhee thhheelllssssthh thhhheashellssthhh by the thhheashore".

Saturday, September 01, 2001

I have consumed 4 Appletini's (a really girly, but tasty drink that is neither an "apple" or really a "martini") which have managed to make me a little soft around the edges...BEWARE: for once I may spell words correctly and appear to not misinterpret english for "pig latin".

Things I learned about myself tonight hanging out at a really pretentious staight (but love to hang with fags) bar:

  • That I will forever spend my life being told I am the straightest/butchest/gay the only straight guy at the table has ever
    met and really wants to join his lacrosse team.
  • That I totally remind someone of someone, but they just can't put their finger on it.
  • That I flirt unabashedly, unashamedly and unendingly and it really is confusing to the guy with a 1 hour hard-on when I say I have a boyfriend and I only sleep with him.
  • Bigger hair on a chick - no matter how tall - does not make them closer to God.
  • I love my boyfriend more in everyday life, then in fantasy - he shines so, so much brighter in bleak light of day.
  • I am the most gutteral and foul-mouthed fag you ever met - which is probably why I get alot of comments like number #1.
  • Insecure friends who spend the entire night worrying that you like your other friends more - really end up fulfilling thier own prohecy with you liking your other friends more.
  • Asking another couple (who you think isreally, really cool) to go on a doubledate is embarrassing and immediately returns you to "GO" in the board life of , well, Life.
Chris - Man, I couldn't be more embarrassed, I have contacted EBay and asked them to pull the images of the Toaster, Full Length Mirror and my Family Antique Baby Spoon collection from their site.

Friday, August 31, 2001

I am my overwhelming sense of jealousy, whining and empty wallet....damn lay-off, I soooooooooo wanted to be there this weekend peeing and having sex in the streets.

Wednesday, August 29, 2001

uh, would you like fries with that ??

wrong, just wrong
I just couldn't look at blue anymore...
Bill has been busy arranging his links by Astrological inclination, I feel that I too should reorganize my site's links (plus add some of the great new bloggers I've come across) in some systematic order (I used to use "Lusts", "Sweethearts" and "Loves", but let's face it I'm fickle and kept moving you all around too much) - I have decided to come up with a new system: "the penis".

Jonno innocently asked (can Jonno really do ANYTHING innocently??) me, "How will you determine the pecking order of the peckers?"

Well, I can't decide. Length first, then girth, or vice-versa?...should cut and uncut be subcategories? Will fellow Bloggers be honest? Will I need to demand photo's (oh please let me DEMAND photo's). And what of the great debate over showers vs. growers (seriously I always considered myself to be in the later, until the great debate over the "angel" picture and the suspected "squirrel" nesting in my cargo pants) - is that yet another sub-category?

Uh - What??? - there's some sort of sinking noise - WOOOOOOSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!, oh Shit! My blog really has sunk this low to have material hasn't it?

I am my complete sense of shame - I'm outta here.

Tuesday, August 28, 2001

Well the drought may be ending, I actually had a call for an interview today (of course it won't be til next Wednesday - but hey imagine an anal, over-achiever like me with a whole WEEK to prepare !!!)...once again I felt an incredible need to "HAVE FUN WITH KEYWORD SEARCHES", not only am I doing a free lance project for a local gallery helping them with their search engine submissions and Meta tags but I have remained somewhat baffled by the keywords that are bringing unsuspecting visitors to my mixed up world. So without further ado/adieu/adoo-doo I have winners in not one, but THREE categories for keywords used to find my site via a search engine:

  • For most accurate and stereotyping keyword phrase:     LIL HORNY BITCH
  • For somehow most poetic and surreal:     SIX DEGREE'S OF SEPERATION
  • For most "WhatInTheBlazesAreYouSearchingForShitLikeThisYouFuckingFreak?":     TEENAGE GIRLS AND PERIODS

    Whew! Now didn't that just beat the pants off of last years Emmy's (Personal Note: I was wearing a spectacular Mackie gown during the reading of the winners, but do to an unfortunate incident with me scratching my panty-less, crotch the scene was censored by the National Broadcasting Association For Decency In Blogging and E-Entertainment's Fashion Emergency)

    I am greatly amiss (am I making up the spellings of words again?) in mentioning that on Friday I actually was graced with the honor of hearing the voice of my "If-I-Wasn't-Happily-Married-And-Your-Husband-Wasn't-So-Much-Better-Looking-Then-Me-I-Would-Make-You-My-Personal-Hump-Back-Whale" favorite blogger: Jonno. He sounded as sexy, smart and cute as I would have ever imagined - felt like I was hopping on the phone with someone I had been chatting with everyday for years.

Monday, August 27, 2001

Either I'm still trying to figure out if I missed a scene in this (I mean I really enjoyed it - Tilda Swanson is amazing - but there seems to be some character development missing or something to justify each character's motivation and actions.)

OR I was suffering from a vicious concussion from kicking myself in the head for wasting an hour of my life watching John Carpenter's "Ghosts of Mars" - needing to be renamed "Space Lesbians VS. Alice Cooper Wannabe's of Mars" (it would have been more than an hour - but I only stayed that long because I wanted to finish my Red Vines)

OR maybe I was just still reeling from my coffee-talk with Chris, but either way I have somehow missed the chance to blog the last few days.

BTW - Chris was great, he makes you want to open-up a six-pack and watch "Mystery Science Theater 2000" - he's the type of cute, cool guy who doesn't put on airs and doesn't expect any of you (he even made more sense than both the movies combined).

The rest of the weekend I found myself ending up at the same local bar three nights in a row - diversity be dead, my friends here love the familiar!

On my job quest today, so I need to focus my thoughts elsewhere - I swear to be more entertaining (or something) next time....

Thursday, August 23, 2001

Don't worry beautiful I would never result to THAT, crap I may need to sell my body and obviously my asking price will be cut in half without the full package. I mean I don't have Choire doing things like THIS for me.

Tuesday, August 21, 2001

I find it a little creepy that someone out there came across my site using the keyword combination:


Try there keywords next time:


Monday, August 20, 2001

Ok, face it - here's proof that I am an angel

Great Moment: Running into old friends of my boyfriend's when visiting him at his bartenders gig on Friday night after seeing Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

Bad Moment: Running into old friends of my boyfriend's when visiting him at his bartenders gig on Friday night and realizing that all six of us have been laid off from our jobs in the past month to 6 months (and the 6 monthers are STILL unemployed and we all seem to be applying for the same jobs)

Great Moment: Sitting in row 12, seat 13 - behind home plate at the DBacks vs Cubs game on Saturday night for one of the most exciting games I've ever attending.

Bad Moment: The skill it took for that daredevil pigeon to find and target the guy sitting in row 12, seat 13 - behind home plate at the DBacks vs. Cubs game....during the bottom of the 8th.

Great Moment: Running into my best friend from high school at Charlies on Saturday Night.

Bad Moment: Realizing that you are running into your best friend from high school (who you haven't see in 14 years) and your sooooo drunk from 4 bomber-sized Samuel Adams at the DBacks ball game, 3 "way-to-easy-to-ingest" Mandarin&Tonics at Roscoes and you have just made the inebriated decision to walk around the bar with your shirt off because you and the AB Roller have been very intimate these days.

Great Moment: My boyfriend "being in the mood" all weekend.

Bad Moment: Being oblivious to the fact that my boyfriend was "in the mood" because I passed out as soon as my drunk, shirtless, bird-pooped-on-ass, crawled into bed Saturday night.

Friday, August 17, 2001

Finally I get what Jonno has been talking about for months - I am my total sense of uncoolness - very funny, rather heartbreaking

And you thought just Starbucks were popping up everywhere you looked!

Am I the only one whose confused? Doesn't Johnny Cochrane normally "defend" the Shark?? I can't find a damn link for it, but Tuesday morning on CNN, they interviewed Cochrane who has been retained to defend the man who was attacked at the resort and his wife claims wasn't aided by the lifeguards. My thoughts are with the lifeguards - "I'm not going in the water and playing fish bait" - SMART MOVE BOYS, you'll never make the BayWatch auditions without a leg, of course I would be more nervous about waving any of my remaining limbs in front of Cochrane.

Tuesday, August 14, 2001

Woof, I'm feeling a little wiped out. Need to go swallow a boat load of 5-HTP and get my ass in gear. The wedding was stunning - Les was literally the most beautiful bride I have ever seen (living or in film) and well Mark was pretty damn pretty himself. The boyfriend, myself and another gay couple had a pretty hysterical time confusing the straight, single chicks (Damn those boys dance well - um, but why are they dancing together?)

Lucky and I were more digustingly in love by the end of the weekend. At one point while dancing at Detour (Hamburger Mary's/Kickers Sunday Tea Dance) I just sat on the edge of the dance floor and discreetly watched my boy doing his thing on the dance floor - a hot, buff little vixen came up to strike up conversation and I smiled and informed him I was kinda busy checking out my boyfriend - he turned to me and said "well if he's your boyfriend why aren't you out there dancing with him?" - "Because", I said "Sometimes you just have to take a few steps back to see what ya really got"...not sure he got it, or I was just rolling, but wow, what a moment.

Anyway - todays D-Day B-day - the big 32. I'm gonna go get all the pics from the weekend developed, hit the gym, get some sun, lunch with my folks, Lucky set me up for a massage this afternoon, then dinner and drinks with my boy and then maybe hit Roscoes. Nothing fancy, no fan fare, no hoopla - I MUST be getting older. ;)

Thursday, August 09, 2001

Alrighty, I'm off to the lovely couple pictured in this photo's wedding - never have you met a lovelier, more open-minded and just cool to be around couple in your life. The boy and I take off tomorrow morning and since the impending (and in light of my current unemployed circumstances) 32nd Bday is Tuesday - I'll be having some beach and "other stuff" R&R for the next few days. Be good to yourselves!

See me tailgate - I am butch!

Tuesday, August 07, 2001

In just a scant 9 months the world could be bouncing the first human clone/baby upon it's knee. Sure there's no way around the moral issues and questions raised by the "Stem Cell/Cloning Controversy" - Is this really a humanitarian effort to assist childless couples by the worldwide scientific community, or a convention of modern day young Frankensteins ("Shhhhhh, be veeeeerrry careful of the stairs, they can be very twwweacherooooouuuuuuussss")

But hey - that's sophisticated mumbo jumbo for another day - today let's take a look at "The Softer Side of Sears, oops - I mean Cloning". Imagine the fun possibilities that cloning ourselves, our friends and favorite celebrities offer's us:

  • You could have the age-old "It's not you, it's me" conversation for hours with your clone.
  • Be on first name terms with cloning celeb's like Dolly the Sheep and George Bush (before arguing that he's not a clone - think twice about it)
  • Finally the truth is known, am I as good in the sack as I think I am??
  • No more "Entertainment Tonight" segments on will Katie Couric move to another morning show - she'll be on ALL the morning show's, Katie clones EVERYWHERE.
  • "One-of-a-Kind" outfits ????!!!!! Forgettaboutit !!!! Your dressing for 2, 3, 4, maybe 8 now!
  • No more boring dinner's with the In-Laws, meetings with the boss, conversations with your boyfriend (just kidding honey!), let your clone pick-up the slack.
  • Let's really fuck with the census people!

    No matter how you slice it (ba-dum-bum) cloning is fun for everyone!!
    (The views expressed on this web site and within this blog are not supported by anyone even the person making them. This blog will self destruct in 30 seconds...
    1....2....3...4....5....6....7...8....9....10....for god's sake go SAFE yourself !)

Monday, August 06, 2001

A smile, even a mother wouldn't dare love Self Portrait: Sure one hand is holding the camera - but where's the other hand? Damn, I swear this would have been a good pic if it turned out
Hmmm, is it me or is there something in the air??

First Jonno, Now Blogstalker.

Bloggus Interruptus, Writer's Block, Artistic Apathy....what's going on in Blogville ???

Do we suddenly get tired of trying to be interesting?

Do we suddenly feel tied and bound to our computers and our blogs?

Is the summer heat just too much ??
("it is too hot to blog, we must fuck now" - you need to have seen "Body Heat" to get this attempt at wit)

Or is it something far more insidious (like the Bush administration) ?

Seeing that I spaced on blogging for the last 6 days I know I'm starting to sail in the same boat (but what sexy shipmates I have) so for all involved I have decided to make a list of possible blog subjects to blog on:

  • "Blogville Death Matches" . Much like "Celebrity Death Matches" we begin to pair bloggers of different belief's and ideoligies to spar in a cage (ala "Mad Max and the Thunderdome"). Right now I am scouring web sites looking for a Black-haired, White-faced Goth Master into Marilyn Manson to get a Broadway Musical-sized ass-whooping from the lovable Mermaniac
  • "Love Life Inventory". We've inventoried our fridges, bathroom cabinets and wardrobes, how 'bout our love lifes? Write a chronological tell-all blog detailing the crushes, the CRUSHES, the flirtations, the loves, the losses and the "if I ever see that bastard in a dark alley even the rats will run scared" 's. Please supply full names, mailing addresses, photographs and any embarrassing answering machine messages....we, uh need these for, uh, um - references.
  • "Pick the Missing DC Intern". Sleuthing after the fact is fun, but pulllllllleeeeeeezzzzeee, let's get in the game and pick the intern "before" her DCA sleaze-bag, pretty-boy, politician boss has her knocked off by his psycho brother (I mean not like it happened that way). Qualities to look for: Unique/Confusing first name, "Glamour Shots" taking at the mall, enjoys affairs with older, married men.
  • "Role Reversal". Well sure pretty much all of us in this reader's circle are gay (We're FABULOUS!) but how would the point of views of our web sites change if we were straight - I mean I'm sure if I was straight I would be obsessed with sex, always cracking witty/smart ass commentary at life at large, be unemployed and working out every day...oh, uh, aw shit - same Blog, never mind!
  • "Confuse an UnAccompanied Minor". Actually this is more or less the theme for a new FOX reality show I'm pitching where we take innocent, frightened, unaccompianed minors and then place them on major airlines and make them feel like luggage (you think your gonna end up WHERE ??? buhahahahahahahahaaha!!). The show will incorporate great close-ups of the little cherub's faces as we put them on a coast-to-coast connecting flight from ATL-ORD-DEN-PHX-SFO, whoooooo - non-stop laughs - I'm tearing up as I write.

Tuesday, July 31, 2001

Ok, checking out Jonno's blog and see his reference to taking a gay test and thought "Oh well it's not 830am yet - I can take the test and still hit the gym" (yeah, yeah - my days still aren't tremendously busy and I'm STILL looking for a job...anyone need a slightly rumpled but loveable Director of Marketing/Interactive Strategist??)

So I'm 68% gay...but the typical Gay Male is only 51% gay - WHAT??? So I'm 17% more gay then the average gay guy taking this test - and on the world wide average of 68K respondants I was 29% more gay - UH?

Ok, I like to be an overachiever but have always secretly relished my title as one of those guys you weren't quite sure would punch ya or fuck ya if you hit on him. A couple of my buddies have some name they have created for me, something like the "rough-trade deceiver" - but now the truth is out, I'm not "all man", but a "big girl". ;)

I know it's the sex questions that did me in.

  • First Kiss with a guy: 12
  • Came Out: 16
  • Number of Men I've Slept with: !@#$$ (uh, not telling - I was a horny lil shit before marriage)
  • Group Sex: Yes, please (oops - I mean yeah I tried it)

    Oh well I've lived the lie, I'm moving "gayly" forward - wish me luck.

Monday, July 30, 2001

Damn! I have no energy to rewrite the post I wrote today but since it was basically an artillery of venom against organizations like this, I'll let you get riled up yourself.

Oh - I am in a much, much better mood today thanks to a wonderful weekend with the boyfriend (Sex, Beer, Friends and cathartic talks)

Congrats to Bill/ Mermaniac on his 24 hour Blogging-polloza and inspiration of nudity all over the world!

Friday, July 27, 2001

I don't think you want to see what's in my head today. I better go catch a flick or something - I feel like crawling into someone else's world today. xoxo.

Thursday, July 26, 2001

I am the emotional, whirling dervish, oscillating wildly 'tween rapture and despair, giggles and fits.

I hate being an emotional roller-coaster - rickety-crick-creak, rickety-crick-creak as the rusty red rollercoaster car climbs the first incline, the wheels grasping weakly - desperately to the rails

(the boyfriend leaves for work - the roomate leaves for work, it's me and the cats again - I feel like a mother seeing her kids off to school then turning to face an empty & lonely house - no remnants of feeling of "home" remain. Fuck the gym today I think - I'm just not in the mood, I start the laundry, make the bed, do the dishes *naked if that makes it less boring*, when all is done I notice how the quiet floods in from every corner - the tv snaps on with the press of my thumb - angry teenage girls - from periods to prostitution - shit, not in the mood for this...gym clothes go on and I'm out the door)

- rickety-creak-crick-clap, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car halts, stalls, then lunges down the hill of iron and wood, the wheels scream - "I can hold on" and metal slips on metal, as sparks dance

(I get to the gym, I hit the bike and pound my legs, sweath pours forth, a "by chance" conversation with an old friend spotted while we crunch against inflatable balls. I tell him my story and he offers words that are chosen and wise - I believe they call it "advice". I feel exhilirated, I feel bold, I want to race back into the day.)

- clap-grip-clap-steel, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car grabs hold and shakes the steel, pulling up the tracks, grunt-grunt-grunt.

(A call placed to my old employer. The fake motherly bitch from HR - "Oh so good to hear from me, oh how am I, oh how they miss me" - what?? "Oh no dear we haven't got your final check, Oh no we weren't doing that to the end of the month, Oh you know things are tough here at the agency to, Oh I don't think we owe you for that much vacation time". My blood boils, my eyes could bore holes. The boyfriend calls - I want to be understood - I want to be heard - I want some sweetness - his timing is bad - not his fault. )

- wooooooooooosh, the rollercoaster trembles-jerks-flails as it tears down the rails - the sparks, turn to flames. The rollercoaster is on fire.

Wednesday, July 25, 2001

ok - the look of my site has got to change - sooooooon. I just am screwed if I try to do any coding on my boyfriends computer (can you believe 24MB of RAM ???? Thank god the man has everything else going for him). I have a domain reserved and could just move the all site over to it, but I'm just kinda apathetic about taking on the project. Actually that's kind of a lie - it's more than apathetic - it's like this feeling where everytime I tell myself to just start the project with the intention of finishing it - my whole body just involuntarily does this squirming thing (since I no longer have medical coverage I feel I should avoid these seizures as much as possible).

So Lucky's at school and the roomate is MIA or BOMC (Back of Milk Carton), perhaps I'll add him to my new take off on "" that I've been talking about in the side bars, called:

I'm bored, really bored. I could read. I could call friends. I've already jerked off twice. I just - aw shit, here comes that seizure again....

I was never this lazy, I just don't feel like being holed up in the house by myself, and well, a year has passed - it's not like there is anyone I can just call up and say "Hey - you wanna go have coffee with me and discuss, well - me". I'm looking for a break-through conversation, a slap my ass and call me sonny epithany, a lightbulb that bursts above my head and showers sparks deep into my soul, anyone got the time - the right words - a strong spanking hand ???

Tuesday, July 24, 2001

et-i-quette\ 'e-ti-ket\ n. : the forms prescribed by custom or authority to be observed in social, official, or professional life. (synonyms: proprietary, decorum, decency, diginity

Perhaps it's how we are raised, or even more so, maybe it's who we "chose" to be in later life - but I find my move back to be an interesting lesson in etiquette and behavior.

Why do people who know me socially feel a need to comment on my move back to AZ with such clever statements as "Why would you do something so stupid?", why do people neglect to celebrate with my boyfriend and I the very significant and life changing decision to move in together (I deem it as extremely important and not an everyday occurence - I mean I would have gotten a friend in this situation a card to celebrate this big step in their life with the person they loved) and why do people strike a coorelation between "unemployed" and "free time". I feel busier than ever, try looking for a job in today's economy and see how much of your time it absorbs (add on to that packing up and moving 2,000 miles then moving in and there's no time left) - but I have had several people ask me - "Well what do you do all day??"

In light of this I am beginning the list of the follow prepared responses:

  • I sort through "your" garbage - and I am shocked.
  • Prepare for my walk-on role on "The Nanny" - what it's not on the air anymore - bastards ! That's why they haven't returned my calls.
  • Chase my tail in circles.
  • Watch porn, lot's of porn. heh-heh.
  • Masturbate - frequently. (often paired with the above response when the person responds - "no, really?"
  • Drink rubbing alcohol with my old gal-pal Kitty Dukakis - fill'er up sistah!
  • Contemplate my navel
  • I have rewritten "Little Women" to include more sex, drugs and references to shower-nozzle masturbation.
  • Watch "Where Are They Now" segments praying for more news on lovable TV star, Tina Yothers.
  • Play "Where's Chandra?"
  • Rewrite history - we now own Sweden lock, stock and barrell.
  • Saturday, July 21, 2001

    OK - last night was the first big night back on the town - man, I just can't drink like I'm 21 anymore - my stomach is planning a protest that makes the G8 summit demonstrations seem tame.

    I need to learn to curb my jealousy - I felt the green-eyed monster creep up on numerous occassions when guys would approach my boyfriend - who knew him in my absence (some "knew" him way too well for my taste but we both agreed an open relationship was the only way to manage the 2000 mile distance) - it's just so frigging hard to come face-to-face with these people and see that feeling of intimacy or "knowing" them seemed to have of the man who is the love of my life, my everything. I know it's just sex, I'm more secure with myself then this but man did I start feeling like just crawling inside myself and turning off the lights.

    Topping the overwhelming queasy sensation was running into my boyfriends ex. When you just move in with someone - the last thing you want a reminder of is the last person they lived with. My normal selfless/sadomasochistic side made me encourage my boyfriend to be friendly and speak to his ex, of course then I felt myself closing up as I just stood there watching them talk and thought "Shit, don't let us become that - please I never want to use the word ex-boyfriend again".

    I hate this side of myself - "Do I look fat in this Blog??" I hate being insecure, wondering what the other guys thoughts are, worrying my boyfriend may not have completely sowed his oats, worrying that I may not be's natural, it will pass - right?

    I need some time to settle in here, get my bearings straight, I feel like I'm at a party and I don't know the host - ya know where you keep going up to everyone at the party being overly nice because your worried you'll accidently be rude to the person whose house your in, walking on eggshells...I hope I figure out whose holding this shing-ding soon.
    I am sick of hearing about Chandra Levy - I assure the media there ARE other people missing in this world.