Due to the blaze at Casa Chris - "Le Swish" wants to shower at my house tonight, random thoughts escalating to a feverish pitch:

- how long will it take me to run home and practice laying around naked ?
- will my dog approve of another naked man in my shower (she likes to lick you when you step out)?
- is it wrong to continue to jerk off to Vintage Falcon porn with company present ?
- Lube, Poppers, Bullets and Cockrings - household decorations or deviant accessories ?
- Does this mean we're going steady?
- Will he buy me a ring ?
- Cock-ring ?
- Should I whip up my world famous tater-totts to make sure he's been fed ?

So much to do, cameras to install in the bathroom, wash out the one towel I use as a cum rag, hide the Olsen Twins porn collection, busy, busy!

.....hey, um - yeah HNY03...I've abbreviated it cause I'm kinda sick of saying it and especially hearing it. Lucky and I hid out yesterday. I put together a filing cabinet for him and we watched 'Marathon Man' which neither of us have ever seen and I cuddled with my dog every chance I got. We stayed out to 3am dancing and dropping on New Years Eve. It was different. In our last 4 New Years Eve's together we had never partied here - kinda quickly remembered why. It was nice - but in that every Saturday Night kinda way. I haven't dropped since August so - we were warm and fuzzy and went and hid on a velvet couch in a private area of the bar and made-out and bullshitted for what must have been an hour about making this last forever. Some cute, but LOUD - and I mean LOUD recent San Diego transplant fag-hag came up to tell us how adorable we were and why our Hamburger Mary's sucks, and why she loves being a fag-hag, and blah-blah-blah-blah-blah. Lucky adores obnoxious girls like this and gave her his business card and asked her to call us - I quickly got us back out on the dance floor which suddenly seemed the "quieter" and "safer" alternative. All in all a "nice" night - nothing more nothing less - we're debating Montreal or Toronto next year - someplace outside of the states.

BTW - thanks to those who read me and actually some how find amusement in my ramblings, lists, stories, thoughts, worries, bad jokes and et al. There seem to be enough of you that I've way surpassed 50,000 visitors as of the begining of the week. Thank you.

ow, ow, ow, OWWWWWW

My bi's and tri's are screaming today. I started back and reinvigorated my work-out by moving to high cardio, less hard-core pumping. For the weight lifting portion I'm switching to the "Power of Ten" - ouch. Every repetition - 10 second counts. I never knew bi's/tri's could take so long. I had to drastically reduce my weight levels - but the overall affect should be increased strength and tone. I kinda don't want to shed all the weight - I must admit I do like the slight intimidation that size lends to a guy - now if I can just perfect a manly sneer.

BTW - I'm gonna hit 50,000 visitors by Sunday morning. Kinda cool I guess. Suppose the way things are right now I'll decline posting a nude pic with 50,000 written on the inside of my right thigh (johnson hangs out to the left)

I let myself go.

Actually "I let myself go" is an understatement.

How 'bout - "Oh my god ! you fucking fat pig - what have you done with Kurt ??? You've eaten him haven't you ?? For Christ Sake - I think I can see him moving around in your belly - you devoured him like a Triscuit with cheese - didn't you ???"

It's the truth - and it's the ugly truth.

I haven't been a holiday person for years. Lucky is in New Jersey and I'm alone with my dysfunctional family unit - and around the holidays I have two favorite past times - Eating and Drinking. Normally there is some counterbalance where I work out every day without fail to keep the haunting pounds off for some huge New Years Eve Circuit Party in another city. This year though we're playing it mellow and staying home and somewhere back 3 and 1/2 weeks ago - I skipped the gym for one afternoon.

The only problem is I skipped it for the next 23 afternoons as well.

This is my longest absence from the gym since I was 20 and hospitalized with a doudenal ulcer.

Tanning, cutting my hair, the gym ...all those things fell by the wayside as I slipped in to a holiday coma. Restless, bitchy and depressed - I stopped posting much (it was so hard to find the time between NOT going to gym and constantly eating and drinking). So I'm at Tarbells for dinner with friends on Christmas Eve when D. reaches over and "pats" my belly. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I can point fingers.

My boss - the "King of the One Slice", never will you meet a man who brings in more pies or cakes with one slice taken out of it - "Please - take this home - enjoy it!".

My Mom - always sending me from her house with fresh-baked cookies.

My boyfriend - who could eat the entire Krispy Kreme franchise and still not gain a pound.

At one point after Thanksgiving - between my boyfriend, mother and boss - I had 5 different types of pies in my refrigerator. I would sit with the whole pie and a fork in my favorite chair watching television - eating an entire pumpkin pie.

My Dog - Baby - often turned away in disgust.

So in the end, others didn't make me eat. I was feeding depression, stress and anxiety - and were they ever hungry!

No supplements, no gym, no need to get sexy for a holiday party, no shirtless - dance all night circuit parties, no real desire to even do it just for myself - the sweaters and jackets were covering it all up, but man O' man were the jeans getting tighter.

Then yesterday - it all came crashing in. I excused myself from my parents table and the Christmas dinner of Prime Rib and went to use the boys room. It was a fleeting thought "Hey a scale - god, I haven't stepped on one in months...wonder what I weigh???".

I placed the right foot, then the left. The dial swung feverishly from the left, to the right, then back again.

My parents said the screams of terror shook the walls.

198.

Since my 33rd birthday in August I have gained 27lbs.

So I called the boyfriend today:

"Babe - help me... for the love of all that is unholy and made of sugar and carbs... carry an elephant tranquilizer and shoot to kill if you see me heading for a bag of Salsa Verde Doritos, knock me unconcious with a pine-tar free baseball bat if you catch me ordering a "Biggie - Sized" anything ('cept Eros Lube that is) and shoot me with a sawed off shock gun if you hear the word "gift basket" fall from my lips one more time"

So it ends. I just woofed down a biggie double-quarter pounder with cheese, biggie fries and a biggie Coke. Say goodbye to the fast food.

No booze for 30 days - even New Years Eve.

I just pulled on my gym clothes and am leaving work early to hit the gym.

And if I see a pie, even a slice - I will stomp on it til it resembles road kill on highway loop 101.

..wish me luck.

...now - it's not just because I have a schoolgirl crush on you but now THIS - you are so great.

...are you tough ?

Could you take me in a fight ?

Are you FIRE or are you ICE ?

From where does "toughness come", or does it grow ?

Am I a Bully because I would pick on you first, or am I your Hero because I would defend you no matter what the risk ?

My mother is Irish, My father is Norwegian - Fire & Ice...I'm a mutt with a violent - hidden temper. I rage, I storm - yet I do it in private. I feel fury and rage - still I express it by silence. My cruelest moment is in the moment where I offer only a stare.

I will slug you - yet not utter a word - my passing breath, my single punch...whispering your name.

I'm a cock-sucking masochist, a little S.O.B. I am my fathers violent temper - hidden by his invisible pain. I am my mother's outrageous display of fire - viewable from near and far.

I can't decide if this means I can defend myself when needed or if I'll tear myself apart before they even have a chance.

The Grind. No - not brought to you by DownTown Julie Brown (Wubba-Wubba) or Eric Neise (Man I wanted to nail that guy!) - but by my life.

In the final stretch (a couple of hours of reconcilling numbers to reality) before sending over the Q2 portfolio to the CPA. Ugh I'm wiped. I was at work til 9pm, then went home and wrapped Lucky's Xmas gifts (I'll take a picture - it's really embarrasing how much I get into "beautiful" wrapping - presentation is everything), then back to paperwork til 1am - up at 6am to reclean the house before the termite inspection. I can't wait til this choo-choo train slows down. I'm taking Xmas Eve and Xmas Day off - figure I'll finish painting the office.

Anyway - gotta jam, gonna be late for the prom - GREAT pate!

Going to hear and see the seductive song stylings of Ms. Tori Amos.


 

 

I love when you reminisce.

Baby - your like a burning in my groin, that hot flashing pain everytime I piss - that undeniable feeling that somewhere, somehow, you finally picked something up - something that so strong - that only time, or penicillin, could tell where it would lead to... you know that feeling baby ?

I still remember the 1st anniversary of the second day we had spent together, just you and me cuddled together naked and shivering in the top bunk of rusty ole bunkbed at the downtown YMCA. What a magical day we had had - Weston-Oil, Crisco-Grease style lovemaking, followed by a trip to the methadone clinic for Sunday Brunch (...remember you said you were full - let out a girlish little belch - and we just laughed and laughed for hours at what seemed like almost nothing), and then we went to the 'Tammy Faye Art Museum for Modern Women of a Lesser God', you cried (real tears!) when you say the oil on paper bag rendering of Ms. Faye as "Mary" and confided how she made you feel all the more closer to your personal lord and savior - Bergdorf Goodmans. We cruised public restrooms - knocked over a Stop-N-Go, baby - how did it all fly by so quickly ?

I admit, I thought we were headed for rougher waters on the 4th anniversary of the 3rd day we had been in love (you know - you called it "Hump Day" - tee-hee) when I had bitch-slapped you at the "Down-N-Out" during 2-4-1 "Colt 45" Happy Hour, not because you were bad or less than me - but because that morning you didn't manage to arrange all my corn flakes in my favorite commemorative "Dukes of Hazzard" cereal bowl by size and shape, how I like them. But you understood, as a man , I had to draw the line - I only do these things because I love you - and because loving you baby makes me want to be a better man. Just this morning I was down at No Mo Money Pawn Shop looking for a lavender cubic zerconium wedding ring to place on that pretty lil finger of yours.

I'm sticking it in baby - nice and deep, just breathe into it - relax, relax - aw yeah - that's Daddy's baby...

oh, btw - Donald - you look frigging HOT today. woof.

hmmm:

Trent Lott makes a racist statement honoring a 100 year old hard-core conservative (Hot Leather Daddy Strum) - that the spin doctors can't spin under the table (OR did they throw it up on the table with garland and all the fixin's to get our mind off something else ? Maybe war with a certain middle eastern country - shhhhh! no one knows were going steady!)

Mikey (Admit it I'm just a fucking FREAK) Jackson dangles his child out a hotel window - yet maintains custody of his kid. Perhaps the kid unleashed the spider on him ?? The press has a field day showering us with the freakish images.

The UN methodically goes knocking door-to-door looking like Amway salesman in Iraq and the American press corps scramble for the "Cliffnotes" version of the 10,000 page "Mommy said we can't come out and play with nuclear weapons today" government document.

Every Catholic Priest, Bishop and even maybe the big guy himself - is molesting young boys - in the present, 20 years ago - I guess even in the future - can you think of a job with less pay and less associated dignity - oh yeah - United Airlines Flight Attendants.

All I'm saying is - and I'm not really saying anything at all (or am I ?) is - what is really going on in the world that these are the only news stories I hear: morning, noon and night ?

ahem...news of my disappearance is greatly exagerrated..

um, kinda.

REPEAT after me:

U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A
U R E A B A

yo-U a-R-e the E-nd A-ll B-e A-ll

...hey a little positive affirmation is as good as a slap and a tickle, any day of the week in my book...

Why do people fall for this fucking chain mail crap ?


> >Dear Friends,
> >Please do not take this for a junk letter. Bill Gates is sharing
> >his fortune. If you ignore this you will repent later. Microsoft
> >and AOL are now the largest Internet companies and in an
> >effort to make sure that Internet Explorer remains the most
> >widely used program, Microsoft and AOL are running an
> >e-mail beta test.
> >
> >When you forward this e-mail to friends,
> >Microsoft can and will track it (if you are a Microsoft
> >Windows user) for a two week time period. For every
> >person that you forward this e-mail to, Microsoft will
> >pay you $245.00, for every person that you sent it to that
> >forwards it on, Microsoft will pay you $243.00 and for
> >every third person that receives it, you will be paid
> >$241.00. Within two weeks, Microsoft will contact you
> >for your address and then send you a cheque.
> >
> >Regards.
> >
> >Charles S. Bailey
> >General Manager Field Operations
> >1/800-842-2332 Ext. 1085 or
> >904/245-1085 or RNX 292-1085
> >Charles_Bailey@csx.com


Sure - sure they will, their also offering free head - aren't they ?

A couple of hints.

"Bill Gates is sharing his fortune" - Do I have to even speak these words out loud.

"If you ignore this you will repent later" - WOW, shit - a little heavy handed, but he could have said "Do THIS OR DIE !" - at least thats what I wrote on my Christmas party invites.

Internet Explorer is not a program - it's a "browser". And it actually comes in versions...and SOME people think it's COOL that their still using Ver. 4.0 - sicko bastards.

Microsoft is not (ask Netscape - remember them?) an "internet company" - but now their trying for some of the share. They and AOL don't even play well together and considering AOL is going down the tube (MS even offers a "true switch" service to help AOL users LEAVE AOL) and Microsoft is heavily advertising their "new and improved" MSN 8 (i.e. - Lets grab some fucking market share!)

What the hell is the name of the company that Mr. Charles S. Bailey works for anyway ? I have a feeling poor Chuck here really pissed off some girl (or boy) and has cancelled his phone and email service is enrolling in the Boyfriend Relocation Program.

These three words "Email Beta Test". Sure you might be able to track emails being opened by the hits against your server for images and shit (if you've embedded a 1x1pixel gif to uniquely identify the source tag when it hits your server) - but would never be able to attempt to determine unique users and how many people they forwarded to. $245 bucks a person - woo-hoo - what a genius "customer attrition" program - in my day most blue chip companies didn't want to pay more than a buck a name to develop an in-house direct-marketing database - but these guys will pay $245 a lead. Hmmmm - a universe of 100,000 is decent to test market an email advertising campaign, say I get an 18% response rate - click-though, not closure (I know conservative - but I don't know what the offer even is) - so I would be paying out $24,500,000 for 18,000 unqualified leads. That's just $1,361 a lead. Shit for that fact and assuming I don't know jack about the person anyway, I should just pick 18,000 people at random out of the phone book and mail them certified checks for $1,361 and cut my losses before this project even launches. Crap - I didn't pay anything to "receive" this email and I can already prove to Microsoft and AOL that about 1000 morons have seen it - I'll cut ya deal - I'll forward you THEIR email addresses and full names for just $20.00 a name - I make $20K for sitting on my ass and making fun of them and think of all the postage that you'll save.

uh - I'm waiting.

...what is your challenge,
...where are your weaknesses?

are you strong,
when do you feel weak ?

do you breathe in your flaws
can you drink from my faults ?

...I am weak in my humanity
...I am flawed by my sense of what is right
...I am saddened by my knowledge of what is wrong

Can you find idealic perfection in an unfortunate beast - that can't even look upon itself ?
Can you find hopeful daydreams in a cobalt blue sky - where only the greyest of clouds form ?

I am challenged.
Yet I hope,
I aspire,
Still I dream
of being loved

by You

Can you find it your kind, generous heart...

to love something so imperfect as me.

you fucking bitch. i am so fucking taking you out for birthday drinks and then sodomizing you................

By now you've probably seen the subject of fury and debate over at another bloggers site over a made-up ending to a scenario involving he and a rather effeminate teen with an attitude. I'll save everyone the naming of names - but it serves as interesting reading if nothing else for how heated - a "made-up" scenario made his readers. Buttons were pushed, lines were crossed. So in lieu of commenting on who said what and whose right and whose wrong (let's be honest there is validity to both sides of the story the problem is are we talking about the bigger picture subject "Violence Against Gays by Gays" or the more specific instance of writing a misunderstood joke on your own blog).

The bigger subject is compelling and is something we all (I think) wrestle with.

I don't understand why guys choose to be screaming queers, running around "Sister this, Sister that", throwing wrists around, quoting 'Steel Magnolias' - but I don't have to "understand" - I DO have to accept, though - that it is their right to behave and "express" their homosexuality as they see fit. Sure I'll chuckle to myself and hope they grow out of it - but if someone dared to lay a hand on the bleach blond coif (sp?) I would kick there ass.

"What we stand for" is not represented by what we wear and even what we quote or sing along to (in our out of drag) - it has to do with principles, morals and how we treat each other. I stand for tolerance - until it crosses lines. When some bitchy queen or princess sits at a bar and rakes every average joe or chubby boy over the coals - loudly - wanting to exact some subconcious revenge for junior high school locker room beatings and humiliations - she's crossed the line. What genius to exchange hatred for hatred. I will get right in this little faggots face and explain to them in the shortest of terms - they are out of line - work out your demons somewhere else. I have met some vicious, catty, cruel queens who I wished would be jumped in the parking lot on there way outside of the bar, I have shoved some of them down and threatened to crack their skull - this doesn't make me a better person - but a person with no tolerance for mean, heartless people.

Bravery comes in one form - the ability to meet-head-to-head with knowing conflict out of pure faith and conviction.
Shame comes in many insidious forms. Lies, Self-loathing, Betrayal, Hatred and Violence.
If we endorse "shame" - an emotion that we have let shape our everyday actions as gay men and women (read my previous pre-Thanksgiving posts about "Negotiation as Character Assasination"), then we are endorsing that people lie about who they are, betray family, friends, lovers and themselves with these lies, learn to hate themselves and others through this negotiation of character and finally lash out in violence at those around them to justify the way they have been made to feel inside.

I choose bravery.

I didn't wear dresses. But coming out at 12 and being openly gay in high school I did realize the need to look as different as I felt inside. I chose a mohawk, white hair, blue hair, Dead Kennedys and Depeche Mode, Virgin Prunes and Bronski Beat, Bauhaus and Dream Academy. I wore eyeliner and used ALOT of Aqua Net. Small children cowered and adults looked at me and shook there head - what a horrible young man I was. A juvenille delinquient. My father knocked me around, even my mother smacked me repeatedly screaming the first time she saw the mohawk. But I know now all I was attempting to do was force them to accept me for what I was on the outside - DIFFERENT - so they might learn to accept me for who I was on the inside - DIFFERENT. How funny it is to be standing at a bar and have a guy cruise me who I went to junior high and high school with - the ones who called me fag. Remind me someday to tell you the story about my asshole 9th grade gym coach hitting on me one night at a bar in my 20's. Hmmm - I'll show you a faggot. Then there were those strange girly boys with their Pete Burns or Souixsie-Souix looks who were kind to me - somehow, though our approach was different, we were fighting the same fight.

Question:
If you saw two boys standing on the corner - one cute, muscular, buzz cut, big smile wearing a t-shirt that says "FAGGOT" and one wearing a rabbit fur jacket, capri pants and high-lighted hair - are they fighting for two "different" things ?

Answer:
Simply, NO.

Footnote to the previous post:

A read the post in it's entirety to my boyfriend - it was a wonderful moment between us both - clarifying, authetic and bonding. We will be sharing Thanksgiving together. He actually asked if he could have his mother read this post - uh NO. But it set the wheels in motion for both of us that this life belongs to us - this relationship belongs to us - and these holidays belong to US. Just thought I would follow up. And if your completely lost - I know it's the weekend , so catch up by reading the two preceding posts.