.....so it begins, scrambling to finish A/R, A/P reports for work, last minute double-duty efforts at the gym, frantic orders placed for, um, supplies, the bevy of "Hey can we crash in your room for just the night", "Hey what hotel are you at?" "What are you wearing to the Military/Afterhours/Pool/White/Afterhours/Pool/Sunset Tea/Closing/Party?", "Hey are you by the pool - can you get us in for the pool parties", "Do I look fat in this bathing suit - WHY YES, YES YOU DO"...

I'm smart enough to see through all the crap, this is big boy popularity camp, grown men - professionals of all walks - converging for a weekend to oogle, cruise, drink, party, dance, sun, hook-up, make friends, laugh, share, make memories - it's not earth-shattering, it's not for the betterment of all mankind, but shit - its a lot of crazy fun - and if you didn't know it, I've had some real shit thrown my way this year and I plan to dance and have fun til all that crap sweats out of my pores, all that hurt rolls off of my back and that smile spreads so far accross my face it gets lost somewhere behind my ears....

I'm tan, buff, fresh new barber cut (though I'll go in for one more #1 before Friday morning)...physically I look pretty good - more meat in the waist then I would hope, but at 172lbs (as of this morning) I've put on muscle and seen a slight decrease in belly jelly.

I'll be high on life, friends and stuff you pay for come Fri-Sat-Sun-Monday - so I wish you all well this Easter Weekend.

Til then: Palm Springs, baby, Palm-fucking-SPRINGS.

From Free Will Astrology :

LEO (July 23-Aug 22)


Week of March 21, 2002

I think you should be removed from civilized society for a while. You've gotten too tame; you've been hypnotized by the conventional wisdom. If I had my way, you'd be temporarily relocated to your very own wild kingdom. Picture a thousand acres of natural beauty where you'd be excused from all the artificial rhythms and soul-sucking customs you have become far too accustomed to. Imagine what it might be like to let the animal within you run around and play. I'm reminded of a phrase by Jungian storyteller Clarissa Pinkola Estes: "homesick for wild knowing." That's what you are, Leo.

Weird - I dreamt the other night I had become "boring". not invisible. not dying. not The King of Spain, but just "boring". In the dream I was in a bathhouse/bookstore type environment (ok - I truly SWEAR my entire life hasn't been some 'Letter to Fag Penthouse' though it may seem that way) and this boy was trying to coax me into a stall where in turn another boy in the adjoining stall - seen through a glory hole - was waving his solid 10 inch cock and trying to get us to both partake. In lieu of my standard uniform of tight-insert clever, ambigiously gay, sexual slogan here- tshirt, snug, worn jeans and heavy - kick some ass - shoes, I was dressed Preppy, very Preppy (think 'Sixteen Candles' - I AM THE KING OF THE GEEKS! thank you very much) and well, I just kept walking. I came back once and peeked and remembered just feeling bored.
And well then the alarm went off and I woke up.

Do you just wake up one day and you've become boring??

There I sat last night - feeling the itch to Blog - to share, to unburden my weary soul - and just watched that damn evil-eye "OH YES, YES we're watching you" AOL Icon spin deliriously in circles - wink-wave-wink-wave, and then time-out....really do all Bloggers log on at 9pm (MST) just to ruin things for me and my pathetic 56k modem ?


And then suddenly the man who has kidnapped my husband and has the libido of a 19 year old Morman on his first mission (riding their bikes isn't the only thing they ride on those 2 year trips of spreading Mr. Smith's love - Gods little SUNBEAM my ass - horny little bastards) demanded sex...crap sex on a Monday Night - a MONDAY night for Christ Sake - I felt like I was in a porno - AND I LIKED IT! Thank god I convinced the captain of the rocket ship that this mission was for the good of mankind (considering well - his "attitude" of late), but man the mission was a complete success, NASA called in to congratulate and the alien residing in my boyfriend wants a rematch tonight.


Oh to be young again.

PS - Noah if you friggin bring this post up at the gym in front of said husband - I will never get laid again ! Shhhhhhhhhhh........


PSS - Have I mentioned how much I missed you

Ok...I haven't even begun to read all the other Bloggers takes on the Diane Sawyer interview with Rosie last night so my jist of it is as untainted and as personal at this point as it's gonna be.


Maybe I'm just a sucker, but at several points during the two-hour broadcast I just wanted to cry - especially during any of the interviews with the Lofton Family and their kids.


My mother was an orphan - beyond the proverbial baby in the basket - she "literally" was the baby in the basket (along with a paternal twin sister who she was immediately seperated from and did not meet again til her early 20's) left at the door of an orphanage in Washington state. My mother was a byproduct of the foster care system of the 40s and the 50s, passed from home to home. Some nice, some abusive, some just cold. She a beautiful (literally - this woman was a HOTTIE), talented, intelligent, good-natured and kind young lady was - never adopted, never someones daughter, someones sister - she was denied that love and I can still see to this day - in her words and her actions - how it haunts her.


When representative Ball from Florida spoke - it was not only infuriating, not only ridiculous, but absolutely depressing. This man doesn't strike me as stupid, that's the depressing part (I have always naively believed that intelligent people are able to see the Right Wing Bullshit Rhetoric for what it is - HATE) - but foolish - so mired down in conservative, black-and-white, rules are rules, let me use religion as my crutch for having no real opinions of my own. Even conceding that what the Lofton's had done was "commendable", but still wanting to wash those actions clean for the sake of his rules and his horrifyingly stereotypical description of what a Mother & Father are like and represent that would have sent any Woman Rights follower looking for a gun.


I am NOT a role model for gays. Yes I have a great job, I'm funny, I'm educated, play well with others, fall into that so-called and poorly described "straight-acting" category...but lets face it, I hit the GENRE statistic - I've slept around, I use drugs for recreation, I attend circuit parties, I've played in the bath houses and the bookstores - this does not change the fact that I still think I'm a HELLUVA guy to know - but I'm no role model.


I want kids, but NOT yet, I spent my early years a very serious young man trying to be a gay man my family and friends would be proud of, then I traveled and learned about life outside the US, then I went to college late, and now SLOWLY I am settling down. I have found the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, we have gotten a dog, we are looking for a home to call OURS.


But as of right now - I AM THE TYPE OF FAG THAT THE CHRISTIAN COALITION IS AFRAID WILL BUTTFUCK THEIR SONS STRAIGHT TO HELL.


But there are so many of you out there who aren't - I think of Aaron and of Beau. These guys seem like they would make AMAZING fathers.


And you know one day I'll leave my selfish phase and I'll want to hear that pitter-patter of a little boy or girl, to teach them how to draw, make up songs, play in the grass, get dirty...

and I just want to know that when I get there...

that I can.

 


I had a HUGE treat last night when my best friend since college - Victoria - made a surprise visit to Phoenix from La Jolla. LOTS of wine, our FAVORITE restaurant and our FAVORITE men made it really easy to ignore how shitty the waiter was and how expensive the check was.

At first it was a strange warm feeling stirring inside my stomach - DAMN is that the Chili from last night ??, but then the sensation washed over me all warm and fuzzy (no I wasn't on X, that was Saturday night - BYE-BYE CroBar - SING IT! another bar bites the dust, and another one does, and another one does, another bar bites the dust HEY! ) - I felt it creep through my Big Star Jeans - filling my new - really awesome Steve Hammond brown suede, green leather, bowling striped sneakers and then zinging straight through every available blood vessel like a starship rocketing to my heart. Awesome amounts of blood pumping - nearly causing a cardiovascular overload I haven't experienced since I watched all Real World Seattle episodes back-to-back on a marathon weekend (SLAP that SICK bitch you CLOSET HOMO!)....

I have arrived....
I am a flutter...
I AM ON HIS FAVORITES LIST

hmmmm....the interesting referral/key word search phrase of the day seems to be:

FURRY PORN

Now one would normally think that this would be an immediate link to, well, you know who...but it just left me thinking how many other possible - alternative - sites it could pull up, suddenly I'm picturing naked bunnies, smoking cigs, wearing harnesses - seductively daring you to "Fuck Like A Rabbit", Overstuffed Teddy Bears forced into unnatural positions against the better grace of God, FAO Schwartz and natural fiber and worst of all - Ziefried & Roy wearing diamond studded-cock rings, purring and lisping sexual innuendo to a frightened, caged cheetah while prancing around in white, mink coats.

...I guess I now know why my mother also said an overactive imagination is a very bad thing indeed.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

ok - it is quit possible I am a dipshit - why oh why are only my archives since 2002 not working ?

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I haven't changed the formatting of my links, 'cept 2001 to 2002....Ok this is everyones chance to show me how dense I am - all slams will be responded to.

Leo Horoscope for Today: March 6th, 2002

"Celebrate your special contributions rather than be ashamed of them. What you hold in your hand is really quite special, and shows a side of you that reveals not only your taste, but your complexity. Quit thinking that you don't deserve the joy that is coming your way. The more willing you are to appreciate your uniqueness, the more you can appreciate others. "

Not sure why I find this soooo funny, but I read it after my last post and well, it kinda rubbed me the right way - no pun intended (well - I mean - not completely).

...distracted....

sometimes, the WORLD OF THE BLOG (sounds so ominious - like the idea of Jerry Springer doing a nude scene) is just distracting. Like an itch I promise myself I'm just gonna scratch briefly and then every few seconds I'm scratching at it til I can't remember where the particular itch began and the scratching ended...I used to be this way about jerking off - yes Choire, many, many kittens have died at my proverbial hands - I would be languishing around bored - or home from a drunken night on the town - and I would pop-in a Falcon/Colt/HotHouse/Buckshot porn and start choking Mr. Happy. The itch that just couldn't be scratched enough. I would crawl into bed, or go about my errands, or whatever fit the scenario and then maybe 10 minutes, maybe and hour, I would be yanking my pants down and massaging my member again - lube in one hand, poppers in the other (oh how RETRO!) ...

besides the fact I'm a deviant - why am I writing about this ? because I haven't been feeling the itch much for a couple of months now - almost could care less - and it's spreading .... am I denying the existance of a massive depression hiding inside my button-fly 501's, did I turn some weird sexual corner and not even notice, would I rather have a bumper up my nose and float in the clouds ? a couple of months ago I was "SUPER-CHARGED" - the Energizer Bunny wrote me fan letters, GM wanted to stick me inside their engine (actually that sounds kinda sexy) and my boyfriend never looked at me funny.

The Rocket still lifts off strong and solid, still can shoot to the stars and beyond - but suddenly the pilot just doesn't even feel like flipping on the controls, hitting the propolsion and venturing out in to outer space...

What gives Super Friends ???

...my roomate pointed out to me this morning that he (and the trick he brought home last night) found great humor to come home last night at midnight (he was working overtime to have a trick that "early" - just kidding) to find me and Baby curled up watching "Texas Chainsaw Massacre II" by ourselves. Ok - bestow me the honor - "Worst Waste of a Saturday Night" but honestly after an afternoon of Margarita's at Hamburger Mary's, Fresh Baked Kitty at Noahs and then this DREADFUL movie...I wanted me/down time - no matter how it was spent.

The world axis now tilts towards Swiss Cheese.

Probably the most easily, enjoyable part of my weekend actually was hanging with you - buddy.
BTW - check out Scott at Sardonic-Bomb...you gotta love a guy who has a site section titled "PIGGY".

   Just a slightly beefcake-ish shot in case my boyfriend is reading while he's 3000 miles away.

   I miss you, babe....

    whoops...

uh ....not sure how this cutie showed up on my referral log - but I think I might have a bit of a crush on him ;)
Don't worry boyfriend - your safe - he'll just think (at 32) that I'm a dirty old man *grins*
embarrasingly nice web design and an easy face to look at - all of 19 - oh to be that young again.

Psssssst - I can buy ya beer (wink-wink, nudge-nudge)....

....I'm missing my boy something fierce.

....my last blog really set some peoples fires.

....I'm afraid this ONE must be lying dead in a ditch or something (wearing a sundress no less) since he no showed Roscoes for beer.

....felt pretty good about the fact that hitting the gym 6 days a week for the past 3 weeks was showing last night, my size SMALL "Peterbilt" shirt received many favorable remarks

....actually had someone (recollectively) refer to me (in my youth) as such a serious and introspective looking young man (does that just mean "unapproachable")

....dinner party tonight and I'm really just feeling blue and blah and just want to cuddle my dog (and pet the kitty)

....it's Friday and I'm itching to get the heck out of here and it's, well, only 9:26am

My boy takes off for Parsippany NJ tonight to go to the christening (which I admittedly thought was pronounced "Chrish-nen", so I probably didn't spell it right either) of his new neice. In some ways gay relationships are like a little dance step - one forward/one back. More frightening than the Macarena and more complicated than the Tango.

While Lucky's parents have finally met me (July), and seem to approve of me, I am invited to "nothing" - not Christmas, not Thanksgiving, not Birthdays and well, not, Christenings.

I think family and friends spend so much time in the first few years of a loved one coming out (Lucky, I mean) selfishly wondering how "THEY" are coping with it, they lose all sense of common decency and etiquette.

I have been with my boyfriend for almost 2.5 years, we have lived together going on 9 months, we are buying a house together, I am spending the rest of my life with him - but somewhere, somehow society has deemed it ok, loved ones of the man I love have deemed it ok and even strangers to us both have deemed it ok - that how "I" feel doesn't really matter much, what "I" want is acceptable as long as not spoken and surely what "I" need isn't important enough to ruffle a few feathers.

Really this isn't directly anyones "fault", but it's just a damn shame....

I really would make a wonderful Son-In-Law.

From the time I was a precocious, little youngster - to rebellious, idealistic teenager - to full-blown "not always exciting" adulthood I have envisioned shaping my life through the choice of many dream careers and professions.

The question "What are YOU going to be when you grow up?" was never lost on me, never silent, a combination of aspiration, enthusiasm and Torrets would come spewing forth with answers like the following:

Age 4-6: Fireman - well now I just want to sleep with one and wear the uniforms.

Age 7-10: Superhero - of course my super powers were "super human strength" and "x-ray vision"...sigh, I still want to be a Superhero - of course at 32 I feel a little uncomfortable wearing tights.

Age 11-12: World Renowned Chef - the problem is I only "really" enjoyed making party platters and hor-deurves, damned to be a "Hostess"

Age 13-15: Wall Street Stock Broker - I had way too much time on my hands envisioning myself as the real "Alex P. Keaton"

Age 16-19: Free-Lance Journalist covering World Events - I was going to cover the world as it changed and evolved, thus helping others to change and evolve.

Age 20-32: Businessman - I just wanted to be able to pay back my student loans.

Present: A happy, productive, caring, generous human.

I bring all this up now because I spent the last few years of high school and first two years of community college wanting nothing more than to be a journalist - what I saw as a combination of gung-ho hero, altruist, rebel, scholar, peacekeeper and enlightened soul. Night after night my mother would cut out articles about journalists being kidnapped, tortured and murdered - "this will be your fate" she would worriedly exclaim. But If you can remember how strongly you felt things (the things you truly first BELIEVED in those early years of adulthood) - you'll understand why I so wanted to pursue that dream despite my parents wishes, and then how last night the tears welled up in the corners of my eyes when I heard they had slit Daniel Pearls throat.

No "cause" is better than another "cause"

No"religion" is more justified in it's barbaric actions than another "religion" - barbaric actions are just that BARBARIC.

If "there's" is the "WRONG/EVIL" side and "yours" is the "RIGHT/GOOD" side, than easily when you stand in "their" shoes it's just the exact opposite

Let's face it - murder is murder - truth like that is simple.