bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings
Friday, August 31, 2001
gonna be a fun weekend online
Baby boy45911240 [11:38 PM]: hi
bjland [11:44 PM]: hey
Baby boy45911240 [11:45 PM]: hi
Baby boy45911240 [11:45 PM]: asl
bjland [11:45 PM]: huh?
Baby boy45911240 [11:46 PM]: age sex place
Baby boy45911240 [11:48 PM]: 4 get it want to play truth or dare
Lil lplaya456 [6:36 PM]: hi
Bjland[6:37 PM]: hey, whats up?
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: asl
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: r u gay or straight
Bjland [6:37 PM]: who are you?
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: asl
Bjland [6:38 PM]: what does that mean?
Lil lplaya456 [6:38 PM]: bye
um, asl = american sign language? asshole? what? what??
4 time-warner/road runner guys in my apartment this afternoon.
you'd think I'd have some sort of HOT story to share, eh? Naw, it's the 7th visit in 6 weeks, and they still aren't sure why my connection goes out twice a day. staying in town this weekend, one possible hook-up with a guy who wants to see my porn collection ( I need to use that line more often); a couple of pals who will be in town as well, so may do something with them. And of course, PIGSTOCK, the post-Wigstock event this Sunday night at the Cock. Should be fun; those 3-day weekend Sunday nights seem to bring out the best in folks......
Thursday, August 30, 2001
The nice thing about August, even in lower Manhattan, you can hear crickets chirping in the middle of the night. It's 3:30 am, the coffee I had with dinner is keeping me up, but not in that bad, agitated, way. Vespertine is playing, the crickets sound like they are part of the music, and I'm contemplating the evening. I dunno, I couldn't even do my "cynical" version well; it was a real nice evening. Sure, he won't ever become my husband, but I don't want to look at guys in terms of either husband material, or dismissable fuck-buddy status. I want to be more open-minded; I don't have a set of criteria that any potential friend, of whatever type, has to meet. Sure I talk about preferences (hairy guys, "natural" crotches, around my age, etc) but that's not set in stone. So, as the tunes play on the cheap CD player I have in my bedroom, and Frenchie's DNA is all over my torso, I find myself with a warm, pleasant feeling....
ok, you want the sex details? slurp slurp, squish squish; woah, not yet, i don't wanna just yet; ooooh, don't stop that; naw, go ahead, put both of them in there..... Seriously, we've done "it" twice before, and so nothing was a surprise, but it was more comfortable, yet intense; even more kissing and we took our time, stopping "at the edge" several times. But soon enough, contorted somewhere behind him, my face getting quite the aromatic rush of fresh sweaty hairyman, he didn't stop when I pleaded for him to, and within seconds he joined me, showering quite a bit all over me.... and then, we maneuvered over to the couch (we were somewhere on the floor near one of the mirrors at that "special" moment), and we layed together, talking, kissing lightly, him petting my chest, brushing my body hair with his soft, firm hands.....
Earlier, at dinner, sometime after he had explained a bit about his 2 relationships, and we were on to another topic, he looked at me and said "We haven't spent the night together yet". The implicatin quite clear, that he wants to, and expects to, at some time in the future. He has a gentle, warm manner, and I'm sure I'll get into that; it's been awhile for a sleepover, and he said he couldn't on a work night. He's away this weekend, so, I guess it'll happen sometime in September. His hands found their way under the table to my legs, gently carressing them as we talked about nothing.
So, I'm still keeping my options open, and yes, while he is quite Bjork-worthy, I hope to continue interviewing over the next couple of weeks..........
cynical version: so, the date called yesterday around 6:30 (let's call him Frenchie, its just easier than figuring out a fake name). He casually says "sorry about rushing you off the phone last night (Tuesday), but John and I were having an argument about me dating." hmmmm. I didn't ask (then, at least) and we arranged to meet at a place on Ave B for dinner. But I thought "nice way to slip that in, now at least I know you are involved" - so, not Bjork-worthy?....
So, at 8:30, I see him waiting in front of the restaurant, he had a cute, funnyish walk (in a good way) and he looked good. A few minutes into dinner, I ask something along the lines - "what's the deal with this "john" you mentiioned on the phone?" long story short, he's been seeing this guy pretty much the whole time he's lived in New York (2 years) but he doesn't consider him his boyfriend. Hmmmm, ok..... Then he clarifies - "When I was 23 I met someone, and we have been together since; but he still lives in Paris, and I wanted to take this opportunity here, in New York" So, he's got a 15-year relationship with the "boyfriend" and a 2-year relationship with "john", and here he is, on a date with me, our 3rd time together, but our first time having a meal, a "real date". So, okay, we have a meal, we blow each other, we say goodbye, right?
GET YOUR LAZY ASSES UP AND GET THIS ALBUM
Yahoo! review by 15 year old of Bjork's VESPERTINE - gosh, I wish I had a friend this cool when I was 15! oh yeah, and hit the "recommend" button, so the kid sees his numbers go up.......
well, I didn't sneeze once all day, didn't need to take the theraflu, and had the date, as scheduled. Even handsomer than I had remembered; a nice meal, and, well, a nice desert. While I don't see us getting hitched, I do feel we'll see each other again. Details later..........
Wednesday, August 29, 2001
Why am i getting a headcold? ugh! just in time to ruin a date I have for tonight (would've been only my 3rd date of 2001!) He's a frenchmen, nice and hairy, and we've actually had sex twice before. When I emailed him last week, just to say "hey", he emailed back right away, saying "Maybe we could have dinner in addition to sex? We did not meet on M4M4dinner, but what the hell..."? - sounded good to me, but while I think the TheraFlu might get me thru dinner, I might not be that fun when its time for the sex. I think he's one of those guys who goes out of town every weekend, so if I don't see him tonight, I'd probably have to wait a week, if not more....... grrrrr. And yes, he's a nice guy, very affectionate, and perhaps even Bjork-worthy.
The guy I met at the Cock Sunday, well, we spent a lot of time together that night, but, alas, outside, unlocking our bikes, he went on and on (and on and on....) about how while he felt he wanted to exchange numbers, he also didn't feel he wanted the "responsibility" of dating. But he didn't want to "just have sex". I just listened, looking at his handsome face, cute, edible butt, and that splot on my shirt that he "gave" me, thinking "um, I really ain't in the mood for talking someone into seeing me again, but I like your New Yawk accent, so keep talking, handsome....." He said something about preferring to leave it to chance if we see each other again (meaning: "if i see your mouth in the backroom again, I'll be sure to fuck it") but that he thought I was nice, hot, all that, so he feels a bit mixed up (and I'm thinking, "well, when your head and your big, thick, juicy cock figure it out, I'm in the white pages"). Now, I know I may seem a bit shallow, having already pictured him in that seat next to me at Radio City, based just on the fact that he's a fantastic kisser, has a great body, and a rather tasty set of fuzzy balls and quite a challenging appendage (and I LOVE a good challenge!).
But quite seriously, Bjork-worthyness really comes from whether they are affectionate; I eat that shit up. I miss it terribly; the morning kiss on the back of the neck as you get up to make coffee; the quick peck as he gets off the subway at his stop; the snuggle as you laugh at the Simpsons together; and feeling his heart beat as you rest your head on his chest, while his arm is around you, and you dose off once again............
Tuesday, August 28, 2001
Monday, August 27, 2001
"We're like crystal, we break easy
I'm a poor man if you leave me
I'm applauded, then forgotten
It was summer, now it's autumn"
1:45 a.m. By the time New Order's 10 minute+ remix of Crystal was playing, my jockstrap was pulled down under my balls, both my hands were pushing at the back of his head, and my sweat was dripping off me and onto him. Patrick Cowley's 1982 megamix of I Feel Love found me squatting, inhaling his heavy, sweaty, fuzzy balls, so there was no need for poppers.
1:00 a.m. It was unusually dark in there. I spent 5 minutes, received several grab and runs, and I went back up front, parking under the huge speaker. Bored, I soon dove back in, but this time, the curtain must've parted, because there was enough light to recognize a handsome short muscular guy I've seen in the neighborhood. I followed him into a corner, he sat down, but I was too shy to make the first move. I guess he could tell I was interested, and his arms grabbed my hips, pulling me in. A little off balance, I fell forward, putting one hand against the wall, the other on the back of his head. He looked up, beautiful smile, and I tasted his full, sweaty goatee.
3:30 am, I'm standing in front of the freezer doors, looking at the Haagen Das, $1.99 sign, and the night has peaked again. So, after I grab 2, I go to the empty check-out line, standing under some powerful florescent lights. The guy on the cell phone comes over to ring me up; too busy talking, he doesn't seem to notice I've got this big wet spot on my undershirt, running down from the collar, just below the wet, matted chest hairs. I must've lost 5 pounds sweating in that backroom.
Sunday, August 26, 2001
2 days until Vespertine goes on sale. And BJORK's website keeps getting cooler every day. The "splashpage" has a cool little Flash-enhanced thing going on. While I've been priviledged to have most of the new material on my hard drive, and have been listening to it constantly for over a month already, I can't wait to have the new disk in my hands. I also got my 2 pairs of tickets in the mail for Oct 4th, at Radio City (2 friends and me are slated, plus I have one "extra" for a "very special person" who has yet to materialize - auditions are being held in numerous locations throughout lower Manhattan).
I've already decided my scenario for my "perfect death" - (don't worry, i ain't going anywhere, but lots of folks imagine the music for their memorial service, or where they want their ashes strewn, that sort of thing, so....) anyway, I am on my bike, peddling as fast as my little hairy legs can take me, and my walkthing is playing Bjork's Unison (the last song on the new album). I am getting closer and closer to Gulfoss (remind me to share a pic of myself sitting near the amazing Falls), as the music reaches it's peak, and the final chorus repeats:
we shouldn't fight
embrace you tight
and I give that last thrust on the pedals, and going flying into the golden falls, permanently becoming part of one of the most beautiful places on earth
Saturday, August 25, 2001
Thanks for asking
All things considered
I couldn't be better I must say
I'm feeling super
No, nothing bugs me
Everything is super when you're
Don't you think I look cute in this hat
Friday, August 24, 2001
several amazing emails in the past 24 hours. If I havent written you back yet, I will, and thanks!!
But since I've been ORDERED to get out of the house, i'm posting this thing below, then AMSCRA-ING !
SAVE OUR CHILDREN!
Thursday, August 23, 2001
yeah! imagination Christmas!ok, so you know it aint so bad when you can answer the phone saying Stupid Sexy Flanders and one of your best friends laughs uncontrollably cuz he's watching the same rerun. (sorry, couldn't find pic of Flanders in skisuit - "It's like wearing nothing at all!")
the last one
5am, and I can't sleep. While I know it's the coffee I reheated at midnight, I can't stop thinking about the last boyfriend, the one who dumped me 2 years ago, on Gay Pride Day, with barely any warning, and no explanation. And, except for a phone conversation, and one feeble attempt a few days later of getting some sort of explanation, I hadn't seen or heard from him in 2 years, until the end of June this year. Now he's always hanging out at one of my local bars, and it's really getting annoying.
I suppose I still have those secret hopes of him coming to his senses, and he begs for me to come back to him; I mean, he's beautiful, and I haven't had any sort of decent relationship since we were together, so I guess it's natural. But I'm finding myself getting all angry at him, and at me, all over again. I mean, I've made myself completely unattractive to anyone. I don't shave, clean my apartment, or even consider looking for a job. I have nothing of any interest to say to anyone (the porno obsession is just not that fascinating to any of my pals). I haven't spoken to anyone in my family in months, I just sit here, glued to this machine, waiting for Mr Right to pop out of my monitor?
Pitiful. And I think of something he said when I did finally speak to him a few weeks (months? I have no sense of time anymore) back. He said our problem was that we weren't trying to make each other, or the relationship, any better. Interesting. This is from the guy who anytime we had a serious discussion of any type would say "are we done yet" "are we done yet" like a small child in the back of the car saying "are we there yet, are we there yet". The same guy who broke up with me twice before only days after we had serious discussions about "us". And me, the guy who offered him money when he was really really stressed out and needed a vacation; Me, the guy who offered my spare room when he couldn't find an apartment to his liking but his old lease was up; Me, the guy who stood out if front of his apartment at midnight yelling up to the window, calling from a payphone, banging on the door, waking up the neighbors, getting the police and the super to let me into his apartment because we had just talked on the phone, and he asked me to come from the lower east side to Queens so he could see me, and now there was no answer - he was passed out on the couch! Drunk, stoned, who knows, but scared the fuckin' shit out of me, and I looked like a fool, and I cried when I realized he was okay, and how scared I was to think something horrible had happened to him............ Me, the guy who when he was telling me it was over that final time, I tried to console him, tried to help him understand it, make sure it was the best decision for him........ until it hit me, and I realized he didn't want or need me for that, and there was no one to do that for me, and I yelled, and made him take his clothes that were in various drawers in my place, especially the $160.00 Prada t-shirt I bought him for Christmas because I knew it would drive me crazy to have it in my house, and yes, I wanted him to wear it and feel guilty and miss me.....
So who is this we that didn't try? This is where my Dad would say something like: "We?" "What's all this ' we ' stuff, Paleface?"
I'm a mess, and it's his fault for making me this way......... and it's my fault for staying this way for so long............
how long does it take before you can let go, before you can move on, and actually want, desire, something better than feeling sorry for yourself............?
Wednesday, August 22, 2001
I'm not gay, but my ass is
I know, I know - it's really lame to use those Yahoo "Top terms visitors used to find your page in a search", but it's not often I'm ON TOP of a Google search page , so I couldn't pass up "i will let any stranger cum in my gay ass"
more porn, please
This is a "publicity shot" of Fred Halsted and Richard Locke, the stars of El Paso Wrecking Corp . I got 3 cool old mags yesterday - 2 from 1980, one from 1977. The 1977 one has a 2 page interview with Sam and Joe Gage on the eve of the release of their 2nd film, El Paso Wrecking Corp., which was quite fascinating.
Joe Gage: "The films are our version of what is 'pop' masculinity. I prefer 'pop masculinity' to 'macho' because I think 'macho' is one of the most sick, troubled American hang-ups that has been around for the last hundred years or so. Which is what i want to say about this picture. The most masculine men in El Paso and Kansas City do not swagger. They're not riping 2-by-4s with their teeth. The most masculine men in the picture are rather calm, and always have a sort of happy-go-lucky smile on their face, and they take life and sex pretty easily."
that's me, a true "GAGE MAN" taking life, and sex, easily (yeah, I wish!)
Tuesday, August 21, 2001
why am I hungover? I barely left the apartment yesterday, except to look at the too long line at the post office (and therefore, not picking up what I think is my Jack Wrangler video - Killing Me Softly). No beer, no dope, just bad television, ice cream, oh, yeah, and phone sex. Can phone sex give you a hangover? Well, the guy said he'd call me today - yeah, that and a subway token.........
Meanwhile, surfing around this morning I was surprised to see that my pic is still on Pork's website (the Wednesday night party at The Lure). I sent it in over a year ago, and the next thing I know, they're having a contest of some sort, and then a pal of mine submits his pic.... well, fortunately, neither of us won, so we didn't have to hate each other. But as you look around the site, you'll see they don't update much, but if you guess which one is me, I'll send you a nice prize, K?
oh yeah, I was also downloading all this Village People music; most of which I deleted during the first playback - I was very disappointed that the Japanese version of YMCA turned out to be so fuckin' scratchy (why upload a scratchy song?). It all started after reading this funny Simpson's reference while blogsurfing last night. Reminded me that, at age 17, I actually used to whack off to the back cover of Macho Man ( 3 guesses which Village Person got me hardest!) Even more embarassing, I used to whack off to the back cover of Cat Steven's Catch Bull At Four (hey, that sprinkling of chest hair, the tight black pants, and that beard!). As with most websurfing, I wind up on some crazy hunt for useless information- last night it was trying to find out if the rumors that the Village People actually filmed a commercial for the U.S.Navy was true. I at least found that when they appeared on a Bob Hope special in 1979, that was taped on the helicopter carrier Iwo Jima, which also featured Don Knotts and a 14-year old Sarah Jessica Parker performing something from Annie!!
god! I really need to go look for a job!
yvan eht nioj
Monday, August 20, 2001
After paying admission, grabbing a beer, and seeing few people in the front of the Cock, I headed to the back. Pitch black. Really - no light at all; I tried to let my eyes adjust, but there was nothing to adjust to. So, heading in, I was surprised by the number of hands on various parts of my body. I guess folks just felt more free to explore since none of us could see each other. I was even more surprised at my body's reaction. Very hard, very fast. Normally, i am real real slow to respond. But this was just the sense of touch, and aroma, without "judging" the source of the touch or smell, that got me hard. But, alas, each guy who grabbed and poked and massaged, got bored rather quickly and moved along. Soon I found myself in an area that had no one in it, a good song came on, so I headed back to the front of the bar (and the light).
Later, when I returned to the backroom, there was lighting, and most guys were much shier. Well, except, unfortunately, the guys I wasn't particularly interested in. But eventually someone came along, slurp slurp, grab grab, but soon his hands, and full attention, were on someone else. While I am not against sharing, I was clearly not invited to share. And this must have happened like 3 or 4 times last night - someone would start off with me - grab grab, slurp slurp - then would soon get distracted, and, apparently, quite enthralled, with someone else!
And then later, some guy I know just from the local bars was back there, and while we sorta tried to keep our distance (the 4-1/2 feet rule) we kept getting dangerously close. Then he said, rather loudly to me, "UGH, no cute guys back here!" I hate when folks talk loudly in a backroom - loud grunts and groans are cool, of course , but just start chattering loudly? naw....... not to mention the obvious perhaps-not-meant-to-be-but-still-insulting "NO cute guys" comment. Oh well, my ankles were sore from the previous day's sunburn, and my regulation boots were starting to take their toll on those ankles, so I hopped on the bike, and watched god-knows-what on T.V. while downing the obligatory 3 am microwave popcorn and 1/2 pint of premium ice cream.
Sunday, August 19, 2001
nice weekend on lawnGUYlin; but haven't had sex in...............gee, it CAN'T be 10 days, can it???? well, that was with the date, and while we did play phone tag thursday, I don't think I should wait for him. Looks like some COCK ACTION tonight, despite certain parts of my anatomy being sun-burned!
Friday, August 17, 2001
that's Mr. Pevert!
i think there's a saying (maybe in showbiz?) to the effect that there's no such thing as bad publicity ..... so, I guess any sort of blogmention is better than none, eh?
so it was with some amusement that I stumbled upon this blogger's August 9th entry:
Ackkkk!!!!! There's a pevert out there named bj who's blogging a site called "bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings". Don't confuse him for me!!!
posted by Bj P. on 12:20 PM
I've been called worse in my 40 years on this planet; and maybe he won't mind if some of my peverted readers check out his page to see if there's any cause for concern over confusing the two of us!
later! off to see if my buddy Mark and I can stand 48 hours together (you'd never know we lived together for 3 years!)
A mountain shade
Suggests your shape
I tumbled down
On my knees
Fill the mouth
The way it melts
FUCK FUCK FUCK YEAH YEAH YEAH. going to see her both nights at Radio City. Oct 4th and 5th. FUCK FUCK FUCK YEAH YEAH YEAH.
Beyond this suffer
This was the trip when I learned that there was a term for my favorite Picasso "style" - classicist, and after that time, I've sought these out. Later that day, we wound up at the Mus�e de l'Orangerie, the place with Monet's waterlillies (it was our 5th museum of the day, and tired, I briefly sat on this ledge, only to have this loud siren go off, and dozens of tourists giggle and point at me!). But walking through the galleries, in the distance I spotted something we didn't know was there, another Picasso, and I approached it step by step, slowly taking it all in. This teeny picture of it of course doesn't do it any justice, but this is when it all began to fit together. I suddenly realized that another of these had been with me all the while I was growing up on the south side of Chicago. I remembered my mother bringing it home, and making a simple plain frame for it, staining it herself, and she hung it in our living room. I've never seen the original, and as much as I know it would be cool, it isn't necessary to go to Washington to see it; I grew up looking up at it when we unwrapped xmas gifts, and when our parents would dance to Simon and Garfunkle for us, and during the fights we had with our parents when we were teenagers. At the time I didn't even know it was called The Lovers, but thinking about all this, the bf came up along side me, and took my hand, and we just quietly enjoyed another beautiful moment.
Thursday, August 16, 2001
well, yesterday was a good day.
I could go on about my disappointment about not hearing from my "real date" (you know, planned ahead of time, dinner, talking, and then slurp slurp squish squish) of last week; but of course, it doesn't mean he won't EVER call, and then there are the possible complicating factors of why dating could be problematic (like, he works 20 hours a day, I don't do shit all day; we both dated the same guy some years back - not at the same time, but still, a bit incestuous, ya know?)....... anyway, no point in worrying about that when we haven't even gotten to the "phone call after the date" part, right?????
But, the good stuff, right? ....... "won" an auction for an old Francis Ellie video with Jack Wrangler (Killing Me Softly, where Jack realizes his new lover is actually a serial killer! the Brooklyn Bridge scene alone is worth the 20 bucks!) in the original P.M. Productions box, that I'm very excited about. Also got an invite to the beach for the weekend. While I'm not one of those "gotta get outta Manhattan" types - (I don't ride the subway, I rarely go above 14th street or west of 2nd avenue, but it is August, and really stinks here in the heat!) - it'll still be real nice to have some time near the ocean, and of course, spend time with my buddy Mark (who seems to get peeved each time I refer to him as "another fag" or "a fag" so, maybe THE FAG is better?) and how about a pic of him "partying" in the 80's? (and you're right, those aren't tacky gold buttons, but Reese's Peanut Butter Cups) ............ and what was the 3rd thing about yesterday that made me happy? damn! Oh yeah, sold a copy of BJ Does It Again, which I should be shipping out today along with some other stuff - yup, I love my local post office, and they love me..... gosh, must be the caffeine at 7 am, my body is NOT used to this! Time to get some more sleep.....
Wednesday, August 15, 2001
I'm really bad at doing the stuff I'm supposed to do (like get a job), but, the fact that it's getting harder to look down and see my cock these days has made me give some serious thought to joining my local gym. If I thought I'd have any chance of looking like my pal to the right here, I'd definately do it, ya know. But it's so much more fun to just sit on my (ever-increasing-in-size) ass here and look at the pictures. Click him if you want to make your own muscle bear. Or, if you're into dirty talk, or any other bear-inspired games, check out these German guys at Big Boy Productions ( I did much better at the cubs matching game than either the bears or daddies.)
Tuesday, August 14, 2001
he thinks I'm gay?
I don't have a gym membership, I don't know who Kate Spade is, I haven't a clue what a gold card is, and the last time I walked down 8th avenue, i got knocked into the gutter by an army of breast implants; but I do have an apartment full of Russel Wright dinnerware, one of my all-time favorite movies is Straight Jacket, and I enjoy the occasional face-fucking.
You'd think after 5 days without alcohol I could actually start making sense, but, alas, I can't. I think I was so happy that my date last Thursday seemed to dig me despite me not getting his "gay references"; and we laughed, as well, about him not getting mine, that today, several days later, I'm a bit disappointed that I haven't heard from him. I don't want all those insecurities about income-level, knowledge about designers, and body image to resurface. Who am I kidding, I'm not worried about that stuff, and I don't think it's important to him, otherwise I wouldn't have been that attracted to him (okay, okay, he has a ton of body hair, smells great, and has really kissable lips) but I liked his other, non-physical qualities, and hoped to get to learn more about them. So, I just need to take a deep breath, and keep reaching for that rainbow!
Men Come FirstThat's the title of a film I've been trying to remember for years which revolves around a door-to-door salesman (played by Brian Granger) selling "marital aids". One of the few from the late 70's that used a good dose of humor (although no one except me was laughing in the porn theater!). The scene where he demonstrates their main product, Forever Hard, is soooo funny! He actually stands on the guys cock after applying the balm, to show how rigid your cock becomes. Gosh, I wish I could find that one. All I know is that it was produced by P.M. Productions, who also put out some great Jack Wrangler films. There's another scene where one of two lovers just can't seem to cum, and the salesman has them make love in front of him so he can analyze the problem. As they are fucking away, he takes out a bottle-rocket like aparatus, sticks it up the guy's ass, and of course, they cum like mad! George Payne (you may remember him from such films as Kiss Today Goodbye,Centurians of Rome, and Navy Blue ) is apparently in a "cameo", although I can't remember the scene.
Monday, August 13, 2001
got an email entitled "HUH" regarding the 4-1/2 foot rule mentioned previously. so, here's my somewhat more awake explanation:
"yeah, i thought later i should explain that, or at least link to when i last mentioned it. you know, you're in the backroom (well, of course YOU wouldnt be) but ONE is in the backroom, and you see a good freind, and you must stay at least 4-1/2 feet away. I saw several friends last night, and there was no way to stay, and still abide by the rule. Of course, if you are already involved in some activity, it is up to the others to abide by the rule, you are not obliged to stop what you are doing."
well, i tried not go out this week. So, 2 nights out of seven is certainly better than 6 out of 7. And I didnt drink alcohol. But, a little weed and a pint of White Out last night is still taking it's toll on my body, and memory. Someone's hand in my jockstrap........ my mouth on someone's balls........ that 4-1/2 foot rule making it difficult, if not impossible to really do much, and that's all I can remember..........
Sunday, August 12, 2001
SECRETS - new Human League. single All I Ever Wanted is good, Love Me Madly is fantastic!
ex'dI knew not to go to The Phoenix. I hadn't been to a bar all week, and it's been a good week, sex-wise (see below). And I rarely go out on Saturdays anyway. But my pal and his bf took me out to dinner, and wanted a drink, so I agreed to go. Within 10 minutes of being there I spotted the most-recent-X. I immediately got anxious, my heart beating faster, I felt trapped. I stayed in my little corner, allowing my pals to surround me, but eventually he caught me eye, we nodded/smiled an aknowledgement. To leave, or even go to the bathroom, I'd have to pass him, which would mean engaging in some lame conversation which I was in no mood for. I hate being forced into fake pleasantries, when I still feel so much anger, and resentment, and loneliness, and yes, craving. Eventually, he came over, said "hey" and kissed me on the cheek. After introducing him to the pals, and him asking me 3 times "what's up?" he made excuses about needing his sleep, and left (odd for him it was only around 11:30). Gosh, it's been 2fuckingyears! How can he so thoroughly change my mood, and make me think of nothing but him by just that simple peck on the cheek, the brief chance to smell him again, inhaling his wonderful mix of smoke, sweat, and hairiness? After he left, I was just stunned, unable to think or carry on a conversation. I tried some weed with Chris, to loosen me up again, but it just made me more insular, introspective, so I went home, attempted to do some dishes, and thought of nothing but the boy-who-broke-my-heart. It's been weeks since I had these thoughts, and I hadn't consciously realized why I had been in a better mood lately............
an hour or two of Lifetime television got me tired enough to go to bed for some restless sleep. when will this end?
Saturday, August 11, 2001
too sleepy to think