So we're hitting Atlanta next week for the first time in like 5-6 years. The last time I went it was for my Grand-monster's funeral so there was a "cause" for going. This time it's for my best friends 40th birthday and another friends 70th birthday. If it weren't for these special folks I wouldn't be making this trip. I despise Atlanta. Over the years it's become a dirty, over crowded, crime ridden, rude place and I can say this without having to defend myself because I lived there for the first 30 years of my life. Seriously, other than a few dozen people and a couple of restraunts there is nothing redeeming left about the city where I grew up. Before I moved it had become so segregated by class, economics, ethnicity, religion, and politics that every other block is like a battle ground for some cause or the other. It's just another large emotionless city to me now.
Onto something positive.....the war over Miss Hibiscus is over and we are the victors. In the course of a week or so I've beheaded over a dozen grasshoppers and killed off every trace of spider mites. She is doing so well and has grown so much that I may have to transplant her from a pot into the ground. I believe she'd like that.
In the past week I've accomplished much off my "To Do" list from weeks back. I've had electricians in to add/replace lighting, refinished the rear porch & patio, and managed to pin down the gutter man to a price for the front of the house. When I don't feel well I tend to get really motivated in getting things done I've been putting off. Our one year anniversary in this house is on October 6th and it's really amazing how much we enjoy it. I can't say I'd build again in the near future but there is something to be said for starting with a blank canvas and watching your vision come to light.
So now I'm going to offer up some product endorsements:
Right now I am so loving the shampoo and linen water from Nancy Boy. It's a small gay owned & operated bath & home shop in San Francisco we found a few years back in the Castro. I was addicted instantly to their signature fragrance for home and body. Check them out you won't be disappointed.
Also sending out some love to Lacoste Pour Homme. I'm all about this fragrance on me.
My Paper Denim & Coth jeans are making my ass look real good these days. Rest assured I didn't pay a fraction of $244 for them (I hit the major sale) but I dare say I would seriously consider it because they fit that good.
Favorite shoes (if you can call them that) of the moment are the Santa Cruz Thong by Sperry. I know...they are basically glorified flip-flops but this is Florida and I usually keep a smart pedicure so I can wear them if I want to. Great with shorts or jeans.
Finally I'm going to rave about my most comfy, cutsie shirt: by Lucky Brand it's the Tropical Paisley and it makes me feel good. I love just about anything by Lucky brand and can usually find their products at least 60% off at one store or another. Call me a bargain hunter but I rarely do full price.
So that about sums up my post for today. Nothing exciting...just me.
Unaccustomed to such emotional displays, Rumsfeld, Rice, and the others began to shift uneasily. After almost a minute, GWB, his eyes brimming with the promise of tears, asked, "Remind me: How many is a brazillion?"
The World's Sexiest Cajun tagged me with a Meme:
Here is how it works:
1. Delve into your blog archive.
2. Find you 23rd post (or closest to).
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five people to do the same.
From: Tainted eye-candy
Sometimes you just have to feel sorry for particle board
(I'd forgotten how much fun I had with this post)
The other morning T and I were laying in bed (talking) and I started laughing. I asked him how funny it would be if every Republican mouthpiece were suddenly struck mute for an entire day. Then we started mimicking them and ended up in fit of hysterics. T was in such a good mood after our laugh that he even let me play with his belly button. Yippee!
So my "friend" who didn't bother to call for 2 years is coming up on Sunday. She's only spending one night instead of 3-4 so I figured what the hell and told her to come on up. I'm already looking forward to Monday... She is so high maintenance. I'll be sure and toss back and extra Xanax about an hour before she arrives -- Serenity Now.
This weekend is the first of two for the Fall Parade of Homes and I don't have to work. Needless to say I'm pretty happy about that. The first weekend is when the lookie-loos come out for decorating ideas and is typically a complete waste of time. The last weekend is when those with checkbooks with a balance capable of writing a nice fat check stop by. Now that will be fun. Even if I do have to work with Miss "I have a baby stuck to my teat". She's been warned in a nice way that babies aren't really allowed in the office so no running off to nurse every 15 minutes. That said, she will have hundreds of pictures of "the baby" for me to ooh and ahh over. Can't wait.
I want to thank those who've wished me and Miss Hibiscus luck in our current battle against the evil Right Wing Christian Grasshoppers. To date we've polished off 4 of the SOB's and yes, I did in fact, cut them in half as promised. Ghone has asked that I post pictures of the deed and I'm going to try and comply as soon as I find the digital camera -- T, this is a not so subtle hint to leave it on my desk. I'll try and upload some pics this weekend. And if you haven't been to Ghone's site, Swim Pig, then go now. It's awesome. He's a brilliant photographer and captures some of the most beautiful and sometimes bizarre photos you'll ever see.
Well, the morning's getting away fast and I have to see a man about a horse so I'm outta here.
Chaste hugs & air kisses,
If any of my male readers haven't had the experience of a prostate exam (and no, foreplay doesn't count) then when your day comes you're in for a real surprise. Expect some very cold lube, a powdery latex glove and having someone probe about in your nether region without getting a kiss afterwards. But it's only once a year and can potentially save your life. If you're over 45 (over 35 if you have family history) then call make an appointment today. Five minutes of discomfort is nothing when you look at the alternative.
Oh, and when you call ask what size latex glove the doctor wears. My new doctor wears an extra large. Enough said.
Earlier in the week as I took my morning coffee on the front porch I was feeling quite pleased with myself. The only reminder of the previous weeks battle against the Republican mites were their dried shells falling from the branches of the triumphant Hibiscus. Her leaves were once again full and shiny and her blooms ready to burst open in victory.
"I can't believe this change in you, Miss Hibiscus. Just yesterday it seems, you were a harem-scarem child with dirty (mite covered) hands (foliage) and a willful heart. Look at you - oh you're lovely Miss Hibiscus."
I was so proud of myself and Miss Hibiscus in our defeating the filthy little pests who fought tirelessly to destroy her. The chemical assassination against the mites had worked! Not a single live bastard to be found. Then, as I am basking the glory of victory, came the menacing sound from deep within the branches of Miss Hibiscus. It was extremely deep pitched and like no sound I'd ever heard before, "Ku-chirp-click-click...Ku-chirp". Naturally I had to investigate. So I pull back her branches and the culprit was spotted immediately. It was a 2 1/2" Christian Right Grasshopper happily tearing away on Miss Hibiscus's leaves.
Those bastards! Just when I thought it was safe I find that the evil Republicans are still on a mission to destroy my quite Liberal and very lovely front porch. I suppose that the GOP mites had done all the damage they could do and on their last breath they call in back up forces to aid in their attacks against my Liberal Hibiscus. The relentless chemical assault I had killed them but they didn't die in vain. Enter the Christian Right Grasshopper.
Outraged I did what any peaceful Democrat would do - I grabbed my lighter and sat the little bastard on fire. He didn't go up in fames as I'd hoped but I did burn his back legs and he literally flew out of Miss Hibiscus quicker than you can say "Still not my President." He fell to the slate floor (I hope it hurt. Bad.) and I immediately took a can of Raid to his ass. "Take that you son-of-a-bitch!", I said. But did he die a slow and painful death in front of me? Hell no. He took flight again and headed across the front yard towards the street. The coward was gone in a split second.
Well, while consoling poor Miss Hibiscus with another dose of systemic pesticide I go to thinking. Now those of you who follow my blog regurlary know this can be a dangerous thing, my thinking. When the Christian Right Grasshopper fled my yard I caught the direction where he was heading. He was going to his home base...the home of my neighbors who still have the "W" and "Four More Years" stickers on the bumper of their large SUV. These are the same people who always stop when I'm out front and tell me how nice the yard looks. They've been to parties at my home and in the evenings I'll stand on the side walk and gossip with them while sharing a smoke. My God he is a landscape designer and knows about insects.
It's on now, baby. Miss Hibiscus and I aren't going to take this laying down. The next time these people who smile and me and call me friend stop by I am going to be watching them. I'm on to their evil political game and so is Miss Hibiscus. These people will stop at nothing to destroy democracy one plant at a time. But me & Miss Hibiscus are ready for them. If fire and Raid won't kill the little bastard Christian Right grasshoppers who do their dirty work then I have something that will, scissors. War has been declared and the days of playing nice are over. Christian Right Grasshoppers be warned: I will cut you in half with my scissors. You can't get very far with no legs or a head. And then I'm going to leave your head on the porch of your leaders, my Republican friends & neighbors who live up the street. (This would be where I insert an evil laugh and also stop writing this nonsense as I have to go to work now)
The main characters in the book, Rick and Jack, are as different as day and night in regards to their personalities. Without spoiling the content for anyone who plans on reading the book I'll say that I found myself strongly disliking one of the men and sympathizing for the other. Then as I got deeper into my read more I went back and forth between admiration and outrage towards them both. It's an easy book to read in that Brian Fletcher has a writing style which makes for smooth, flowing words and a simplicity that most anyone can relate to. That said some of the complex situations and conflicts of the characters made it difficult to digest emotionally ---just as in real life.
The book isn't superficial fluff and it certainly isn't your typical gay romance. It's a story about acceptance, change, and like the title implies, second chances. On the surface it appears one way but that changes as another layer of Jack or Rick's personality is exposed bringing up a whole new batch of emotions. If you're looking for a book based soley on frivolous sexual adventures then it's not for you. But if you can appreciate something that scratches it's way into the good and the bad layers of a relationship then you'll love it. In all honesty the only thing I disliked about the book was that it ended way too soon. I look forward to Brian Fletcher's next novel which I hope will be a sequel to the first.
NYT, August 14, 2005
THE CENTER FOR DISEASE CONTROL has issued a no-nonsense warning about a new, highly virulent strain of sexually transmitted disease. This disease is contracted through dangerous and high risk behavior. The disease is called Gonorrhea Lectim (pronounced "gonna re-elect him"). Many victims have contracted it after having been screwed for the past 4 years, in spite of having taken measures to protect themselves from this especially troublesome disease.
Cognitive sequellae of individuals infected with Gonorrhea Lectim include, but are not limited to, anti-social personality disorder traits; delusions of grandeur with a distinct messianic flavor; chronic mangling of the English language; extreme cognitive dissonance; inability to incorporate new information; pronounced xenophobia and homophobia; inability to accept responsibility for actions; exceptional cowardice masked by acts of misplaced bravado; uncontrolled facial smirking; total ignorance of geography and history; tendencies toward creating evangelical theocracies; and a strong propensity for categorical, all-or-nothing behavior.
The disease is sweeping Washington. Naturalists and epidemiologists are amazed and baffled that this malignant disease originated only a few years ago in a Texas bush.
Please inform any of your friends and associates who have been acting unusual lately.
Nothing too exciting to report except that I got my PSA blood work results back and they were very good. A .8 out of 4 which in prostate terms = a healthy me. Laughingly my doctor said to remember that the more often a man ejaculates the lower his chances are of an enlarged prostate. Are you listening to this T? I have been referred to a Urologist for a thorough annual exam and while I'm not looking forward to having a stranger prodding & probing in my nether region I'll do what I have to in order to stay free of the disease that killed my father, all my uncles, and is now slowly killing my brother. If you're over 40 and Prostate Cancer runs in your family then you need to be a man, Gurl, and keep yourself checked out. Like breast cancer this is one of the most curable types of cancer. Besides not many men relish the idea of having their boys cut off. Think about it.
Well, Hazel was a no-show yesterday. I'm beginning to think that hiring her wasn't such a good idea. After paging her to find out what was up she called (2 hours later) and told me she was having car troubles. This was her excuse last time. Strike two, Missy. One more time and you're out. Supposable she's coming today and it's "on the house" but I'm not holding my breath.
Finally, after over 6 weeks, I'll have real window treatments in my bedroom. Ever since the re-do of this room started I've been hanging an comforter up over the big windows and it's getting old. According to the seamstress they'll be hung Thursday. Of course she said this last week too. I've decided to believe her this time. God, I can be a pushover.
Speaking of service people who don't respond as promised. For almost a year now I've been trying to get gutters installed over my garage. I call and the gutter man promises. I could call another company but this guy is the best and I don't want crappy looking gutters on the front of my new house. There is something about this city that makes getting people who offer a service to actually perform said service. It's so damn laid back here and everyone would rather be out on the golf course or over at the beach than actually working. So tell me how is it that one can afford to play golf and have weekend places at the beach if they refuse to work? Jeeze.
I have back to back appointments at work. An older guy is building a home 2 doors down from his (younger) girlfriend. They're each spending some major bucks on the homes so the appointments should be interesting and profitable. He is from Greece and has this whole macho attitude regarding women. And me, not being one to see a woman stepped on/over, well I've have made it a point to direct any and all questions to the girlfriend. I love how this pisses him off just a bit. It's funny how so far he's tried butting in every single conversation with "his opinion" and I keep right on talking to the woman like he isn't there. When we signed all the paperwork I stopped once in the middle of it and told him "that the process will go a whole lot faster if he'd keep his questions regarding his own home until the end and please let me finish up hers." I looked directly at her and told him that she seemed more than capable of making decisions on her own accord. Talk about if looks could kill. But the guy has no choice but to do what I say. There is a major shortage of housing in this city and unless he wants me to invoke the builders right to cancel his contract he'll shut up and show his girlfriend a tad more respect. I just love my job. I really do.
Staying on the subject of arrogance: In the circle of blogs that I read there has been a turn of events that saddens me. Out of the blue this person shows up out of nowhere and begins harassing people on their own blogs. For the life of me I can't understand why someone would waste their time going out of their way to hurt or belittle someone. I suppose it's a self-esteem issue or a way to attract attention to themselves and their own blog. Whatever the reason I really find it sad that someone can't have enough respect for themselves or other people so as not to intentionally cause trouble. And people are buying in to it which is even more disturbing. I've seen some pretty mean spirited attacks on some really decent people lately and it just bothers me.
This saying by Thomas Brackett Reed pretty much sums up my opinion of an antagonist -- "They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge."
Sandra Day O'Connor has now penned a children's book about her childhood horse Chico.
The new book, subtitled "A True Story from the Childhood of the First Woman Supreme Court Justice," is also about ranch life. Illustrated by painter Dan Andreasen, it tells of her horse Chico and a terrifying encounter she and Chico had with a rattlesnake.
So while sitting on my front porch reading the paper and drinking my coffee this morning I got to thinking what if several of the Rabid Right Wing were to write a children's book titled Chico. This is the silliness that came to mind:
Chico - by George W. Bush
Long winded excerpt: "When I was growing up on the ranch we always had us some mexicans round the house doing the washin and cleanin and cookin and gardenin and wet nursin and such. I'll always remember one mexican, Chico, who was my favorite.
Chico was the son of one of them workers, hell ain't all them folks related? But Chico was my favorite cause we'd always play together when Daddy and Mamma wasn't watching. They didn't like us playing with mexicans because Mamma sais they was dirty people and we could catch sumthin from them. But Chico was my bud. My padre. My comrodie in crime.
Chico would steal us some tequila from his daddy, them people always had some tequila, sneak us some tequila and we'd get drunker then skunks and he'd show me his tallywacker and I'd show him mine. Course Chico was a mexican and them folks are un-cirumstancedized but he hide his like a sausage in a burrito shell. Then there was a little game me and him and Jebbie played called who eats the tortilla shell. Damn boy we had some fun back then.
Then when were was teenagers he introduced me to his sister. Whoowee she was a hot little number. Big old ta-tas and some of the best coochie-a-roo in town. But somehow she got herself in some trouble like all them girls do and when Daddy found out me and Chico was split up. One morning I looked out the window and there was Chico and his mama and his daddy and his aunt and his cousins and his brother and his sisters and they was all in the back of a flat bed truck waving good bye. I asked mamma where they was going in such a hurry and all she said was that they was going intertubing in the Gulf. It must have been a long trip and they had such a good time that they never came back.
I miss old Chico. He was a good friend and every night I ask the good, gracious Jesus Christ to watch over my little wetback compadre and his family as they intertube their way around the world. God bless America and look out for them terrorists. They're gonna getcha"
Chico - by Rush Limbaugh
Excerpt: "I had no idea that Chico was the son an illegal immigrant maid that I never had and I certainly had no knowledge of the fact that he was drugging my household water supply with Oxycontin. It is my conclusion that Hillary Clinton is behind this diabolical Liberal plan to undermine my political and moral powers."
Chico - by Dick Cheney
Excerpt: "Fuck off, Chico. I have nothing else to say to you. Gather your toys and get the fuck out of my Christian home."
Chico - (as sung) by John Ashcroft
Excerpt: "Oh mighty God we adore you in every single way. Oh Mighty God only you can show the way. You'll love us all if we are moral. You love us all if we'll just live Right. Oh Mighty God oh please help Chico. I fear that he''ll grow up to be a Liberal Gay."
Chico - by Condoleezza Rice
Excerpt: "Yes. I do believe there was an individual, a young boy, by the name of Chico and I can only assume or believe that perhaps the intelligence agencies thought that the sourcing used to track him down in his day care was speculative. Actually, come to think of it I do not remember any 'Chico' who reports to us. In fact, there were some reports done in '98 and '99. I was certainly not aware of a 'Chico' them at the time that I spoke."
Chico - by Mr. Anne Coulter
Excerpt: "Most inauspicious was the fact that Chico, a known supporter of the most lying, stealing, Hillary Clinton, was indeed a Democrat. He never once took my side during my tirade at the NRA luncheon while berating her nor did he deny that she looked like she'd had Botox. He is a manipulative, lying little boy who should be put to death for his own good. We don't have to adopt all the Democrats' traits: incessant lying, utter shamelessness, criminal behavior and lots of crying but Republicans need to tattoo this truism on their arms: But we most decidedly do not have to trust little boys who hold dear the unethical beliefs as Chico, the lying little illegal immigrant boy who hates America."
A driver is stuck in a traffic jam on the highway. Nothing is moving. Suddenly a man knocks on the window. The driver rolls down his window and asks, "What happened?"
"Terrorists kidnapped President Bush and are asking for a $10 million ransom. Otherwise, they are going to douse him with gasoline and set him on fire. We are going from car to car to take up a collection."
The driver asks, "How much is everyone giving on average?"
"About a gallon."
Yesterday T & I went to see The Exorcism of Emily Rose. We went expecting spinning heads and floating beds but instead got a well written & acted supernatural drama with some good courtroom action. There were a few well planned scares but the film is primarily about a court case. I rate it a strong "B" and suggest going to see it. Then it was back home for a home made pizza and turning in early. A nice day overall.
Last night as I devoured the pizza at my computer I found myself engrossed with the romance and drama of two new blogs I found. Greg and his boyfriend Gregg have been together about a year and their blogs chronicle their relationship in a funny, biting, and sweet way. Thinking back to when T & I met I can see a lot of similarities in the relationship during the "newlywed phase". These two guys are obviously and painfully in love with each other and despite a 17 year age difference I see them making it to the finish line. I sure hope so for their sake. I spent several hours going back and forth between their respective blogs reading both sides of their relationship and found the once common denominator -- they both really like to have a good time and they are madly in love. It was like reading Young & The Restless meets Queer As Folk. I send them my best wishes for a happy future together and hope they don't ever give up on love or each other.
This is my weekend to work and work I will. I have back to back design appointments all day today. Thank God I'm working with my good friend A. A's a beautiful, funny, and hard working girl who is a pleasure to spend 8 hours in an office with. Add to this she doesn't have a new born attached to her breast. Jeeze what a nightmare that was. Anyway, I really like all of the people I'm working with today as they are relaxed, realistic, and fun. It should be a quick paced day and 5:00 should roll up before I know it.
This is also a football weekend so I've got to dig up something with some team colors to wear and pretend that I really give a big shit about "the big game". Don't get me wrong I enjoy college football but I'm not obsessed with it like so many in this city are. None the less around here you either support the team gung-ho or people think somethings wrong with you. It's funny actually. Last season on games days A & I worked together we'd keep checking the web for updates about the game and offer comments about certain players or plays so we'd sound educated on the game. LOL! And as soon it was just the two of us in an empty office we'd laugh about how we had no clue what we were talking about. Hey -- we'd make damn good politicians don't ya think?
I'm still working on a couple of posts I hope to upload later. An entertainment review from a Pookie perspective and the story of meeting my T. One day I may get around to finishing them....
Let me get this straight. These people are all but ignored by their government for almost a week. They can't afford to leave town so they stay behind to protect their homes and the few possessions that they own. They suffer through the absolute worst of the actual storm... they go days possibly without food & water... they have no idea when/if help is coming.... and now, after all they've gone through simply to survive, they will be forced out of their home? These people have lived through a week of pure hell and then someone knocks on the door and tells them they have 15 minutes to pack up and get out. This is just fucked up on so many levels.
What's wrong with this picture? Yes the waters slowly leaving the city are toxic and there is a massive clean up to be done. Are the 5,000-10,000 remaining people in a city of once nearly a million going to be in the way? Is it an inconvenience to work around them? Wouldn't time be better spent actually doing something like getting food, water and medical supplies to these folks make more sense than sending armed, well fed, clean, healthy military to their front doors and intimidating them into leaving?
Here's a novel idea why not help these folks get back on their feet enough to HIRE them - yes pay THEM...the victims with nothing left...to assist in the clean up in some capacity. Apparently those without were the majority of the ones who stayed behind. Give them the opportunity to make some money...restore their own city...repair their own homes. If they are physically and mentally capable to do this then by all means the opportunity should be offered to them. And I guarantee you they'd work for a lot less money than the "government contracted" crews that will start rolling in.
During the days that immediately followed the storm the world was privy to footage of thousands of people helping each other. Footage I'll add that was compliments of a media who found a way into the city when our own government couldn't. On the news we saw many amazingly strong & capable victims even though food, water and help was no where to be seen. The sheer determination of these people to survive kept them going. Yes, they paused in front of a camera to plead for the government to step in and do something...anything...for them but the strongest footage seen was that showing people helping each other. So why not offer the ones strong enough and willing the opportunity to come back to New Orleans and pay them to rebuild their own city and homes? Many were the working poor before the storm. Now they are unemployed in their "new cities" where, contrary to Fox News Polls, there isn't a surplus of jobs to choose from. If someone is willing to stay behind or someone is willing to return and work then who better to employ. Doesn't their Government owe them that much?
It is estimated that some 400,000 jobs were lost as a result of hurricane Katrina. The government has suggested hiring 40,000 of those affected to assist in the clean up. Even to my untrained eye it's pretty obvious that it's going to take a whole lot more than 40,000 laborers to do the work. So, I have to wonder who'll pick up the slack. I'll be watching to see who FEMA hires and George W. Bush appoints to oversee this clean-up and rebuilding. I guarantee you the ones who'll profit (and profit they will) will have ties & connections to the powers that be.
Soon we'll have the answer to this analogy: If Enron = Iraq then _______ = New Orleans.
Wait and see.
I'm past worrying about him. It's the wife I'm so concerned about. She's doing the same thing I did when my dad was dying and that was to prepare herself completely with facts and plans so when it happens she'll be strong and move on. In a way this is good in that there aren't any surprises and the death process is almost mechanical. The problem is that later on when the emotional aspect hits she will fall completely apart. There are no more doctors...planning...Wills...Legalities to focus on. Just the fact that someone you love very much is gone and what are you supposed to do next. I'll be there for her 24-7 and I pray she'll turn to me...turn to someone when it hits her. God this is just so painful to watch.
Well, I finally heard from friends of mine, a married couple, in Chalmotte, LA. Ever since Katrina hit I've been calling and sending emails just to know they are OK. Last night I got an email from the wife:
Just a quick note to let you know that we left the morning before the hurricane hit and drove up to Tennessee and stayed a couple of days with Charlie's sister and her husband, then drove to Oklahoma to leave our dog with family. Right now we are renting a small one bedroom furnished apartment in Columbia, Tennessee, but are looking for a permanent residence.
From what we have heard we had water to the eaves for several days, then one of the storage tanks at the oil refinery (Murphy Oil) ruptured and now our house is also sitting in a toxic waste area and apparently will be bulldozed without our ever being able to try to save anything that might have survived the flooding.
We're both all right, and we're ok financially, and even though it may take a year or more to collect, we have home owners and flood insurance and we'll start over.
It is such a relief knowing that they survived this. Charles has a bad heart and his wife has the worst form of Diabetes and the complications with her organs that go along with it. I can't wait for them to call and hear their voices. Just knowing that there are hundreds of thousands of people in the same boat in this country is unfathomable to me.
T and I celebrated our big 15 year anniversary yesterday. Over dinner I couldn't help but think over and over how lucky I am. I'm working on a post of how we met and some highlights of the past 15 years. It's hard to post a tribute to someone/something that important without first making sure it's as perfect as the person who sat across the table from me last night. In time I'll load it up.
On a positive note the draperies for the owner suite are supposed to be installed the latter part of the week. As promised I'll take you on a photo tour of the finished project once everything is in its place.
Last night T & I met some friends for dinner. She is a brilliant, beautiful, and brave young woman of 26. He is a sweet, brave, handsome 35 year old weakened from the ravages of the multiple recurrences of Melanoma. It's now in his liver, bone marrow, lungs, and stomach. It's a matter time as Hospice is coming to their house to control his pain. For as long as we've known him he's been fighting this damn disease. He's tried conventional and experimental treatments and it only gets worse for him. After 5 years of doctors and poisons he's decided to let go. His wife has been his rock through the entire disease. She is positive, has accepted a future without him, and continues to love and support him as he is dying. I so admire this girl and her husband. I so dread the "call" when it comes.
Stay out of the sun and out of the damn tanning beds. I spent years sunning & tanning in beds and now I have 15-20 "spots" to have removed and biopsied in the near future. My doctor says it's probably just sun damage but we won't know until I see a specialist later this month. I see my friends and can only be reminded of what the price of that perfect tan can be. The safe alternative is a spray tan which can still appeal to the vanity inside but won't kill you. Unless, perhaps, the booth falls over on you or one of them Bush terrorists jumps out of the ceiling........
7 things I plan to do before I die:
- Cruise the Mediterranean with my boyfriend
- Retire to some place cooler - Florida summers are a bitch
- Go back to college and get a Masters in Family, Youth and Community Sciences
- Complete a semi-fictional/semi-autobiography book and see it published
- Quit smoking before it's too late
- Buy and restore a weekend cottage
- Learn basic Spanish, Chinese, Italian
7 things I can do:
- Roll my tongue
- Make myself laugh
- Let go of a grudge when it's time
- Design a very nice home on a relatively small budget
- Make other people laugh
- Prepare a good ole southern meal without a recipe
- Read approximately 1400 words per minute with 85% comprehension
- Comprehend the basics of Algebra
- Watch an animal suffer
- Stand by and listen quietly to thoughtless religious/social/political remarks
- Be stopped in the middle or left lanes of heavy traffic without feeling panic
- Catch popcorn by tossing it in my mouth
- Eat anything straight from a can
- Imagine life without my boyfriend
- Dark eyes & dark hair
- Slight facial stubble
- Thick shoulders and arms
- A thin sheet over a naked body in the morning
- Chest & tummy hair
- That firm butt
- Full lips
7 things that I say most often:
- "Well, shit."
- "hmmm hmm"
- "I gotta see a man about a horse."
- "Peggy's calling."
- "Get your thumb out of your ass and drive already!"
- "Somebody opened a sack."
- "Oh. My. God."
- Matthew Mcconaughey
- Keanu Reeves
- Chris Klein
- Robert Gant
- Benjamin Bratt
- Christian Bale
- Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson
7 people I want to do this:
Tag you're it.
Chief Justice Rehnquist dies and the fight for the Supreme Court will wage on. Don't think for a second that W & ilk will sneak in yet another GOP party boy while the nation's people are still in shock over Katrina. The timing couldn't be better for the Religious Right or worse for the country as a whole. Rest assured that Gay Rights and Women's Rights could be taking trip back in time about 40 years.
Contact your Senate
Contact your Congress
Do something today.
In the stereotypical sense I am a bad,bad gay man. Par for course I am always the last to catch on to the latest trend in everything. I was the last person in my circle of friends to get a DVD player. I even bought a car once several years back and was pissed that it didn't have a cassette player. It took my 73 year old mother to point out that it had a CD player. Duh. I was also the last person to get a DVD player. Hell, it wasn't until 3 years ago that I broke down and bought one. Now when I do "get with the times" I REALLY get with it. I can't imagine life without my CD's or DVD's.
So imagine when I went shopping for my last car and actually asked the salesman if the car came with a CD player. A Volvo without a CD player? Double Duh. Yes, there is a point to this confession/rant and that is that while I finally joined the CD club I'm still behind the times in regards to my music. If they played it in a bar in the 90's I own it. If it's a twangy, big-haired country singer I probably have it. The same goes for music from the 60's, 70's, 80's....I have it and know every word to every song. But the Top 40 hits? I couldn't tell you anything about it. If I happen to hear a song on the radio and like it I'll buy the CD but half the time I don't even know what the title is or who the artist is. So when I pop into Best Buy...Target...or a local music store I will usually have to hum a few lines for the sales person. Imagine if you will a 40 y.o. gay guy (on a good I can pass for 30 but still...) walking into Best Buy and asking 19 y.o. sales boy if he can help me find the song that goes like this "Don't cha wish your boyfriend was a lot like me? Don't cha wish your boyfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha? WELL? DON'T YA???"
After reading about The Pussycat Dolls in every other gay blog on the web for 2 months I finally "get it" and got it. I am SO hot on those girls and that song. My poor T had to listen to both versions of don't cha 4 times on the way to get our weekly tans. Then I just have to take the CD inside so CJ, my friend and spray tan girl, and I could dance around and act fools to it. Naturally, we've changed the words to suit our needs and maybe one day I'll share them with you. Until then just let the vision of ME singing the original version get you through the day :-)
I've been pretty quiet on the tragedy in New Orleans on my personal blog. I have some opinions and observations that are not the most "politically correct" and I don't want to turn my site into a debate forum. It's just not what I want on my blog. That said you can find me all over the place voicing my piece if you look hard enough. I will say that my heart goes out to every single innocent person whose life has been devastated by Katrina. I've donated to relief efforts and will continue to do so. I also encourage everyone else to follow their hearts and do what they can do to help those less fortunate.
What the hell...It's my blog and I can run as I see fit. I'd like to go on the record and say that the way the so-called leaders of this country are handling this situation is abominable. There are victims who have been all but abandoned by those who could help them. Then there are predators, thieves, and degenerates mixed in with these victims who are acting in a manner as such that they should be shot on site. The people (animals) over there who are raping, pilferaging, and creating chaos for the innocents deserve exactly what they have. At the risk of sounding like Pat Robertson I'd say that if there were a way to pick and choose who could be rescued I'd like to see it implemented. Save the ones who are doing what they have to in order to survive and leave the bastards who are causing all the trouble behind to fend for themselves. Perhaps the thousands of good people over there will start policing for themselves and eliminating the troublemakers. I know if it were me I would be my own army and do what I could to protect the true victims from the agitators by whatever means necessary.
For the record, so no one takes my comments as a racial thing, I don't give a shit if an evil person is white, green, pink, black, brown, or all of the above. Evil is void of color.
If it weren't so tragic it would be almost amusing that Pretend-President Bush has called in the arch enemy of Republicans everywhere, our last real President, Bill Clinton, to save the day. Seeing Clinton step off the plane with George Sr. and hearing that he was meeting with W to discuss this catastrophe was the first glimpse of hope that I saw for the poor victims. God, I wish Clinton was still in office. On so many levels I wish this. In some small way he is and by the invitation of the self-serving, maniacal W. You just gotta love that.
Bring Home The National Guard.
It goes without saying that they should never have been sent to Iraq in the first place. However, they are there and not here in the USA where we need them. Please consider joining this campaign.
"Yummy, yummy. It's time to get up"
(the dogs look at us like we're nuts)
"Yummy, Yummy. Come on now you have to go pee or no cookie"
(I CAN read their minds and they are saying to themselves that we are crazy)
"Nikki. Gabriel GET UP. You have got to go pee or you're going to explode"
(defiant looks back and forth between them - they are uniting and rebelling)
"FINE then. I hope your bladder bursts"
(they're thinking -Yeah right. Like you'd let us pee on the carpet?)
"NIKKI. GABRIEL. NOW. Get UP!"
(a look passes between them...an eyebrow raises....and the cookie in our hand starts looking pretty damn good)
"Come on now let's get up. Yummy, yummy. Who wants a cookie?"
(We won! We do rule the house. We can go outside now)
Finally, after several minutes of this, the dogs still staring defiantly at us they will s-l-o-w-l-y get up from their plush, overstuffed beds and make way to towards the bedroom door. T or I will wave the cookie tauntingly in front of them as they follow.
They take their own sweet time and a few more minutes pass between that long 20' walk from the bedroom door to the kitchen. Gabriel typically has ran back and forth into the bedroom a few times and Nikki stands in the same spot, perfectly still, trying to look invisible. (He is still tossing attitude) Finally, they will make way towards the French doors which lead to the back yard. It's at this point that all hell breaks loose.
Gabriel starts going ballistic bouncing around and jumping like going outside is the best damn thing since chasing squirrels or licking his place where his balls used to be.
And Nikki, God bless his old soul with the weak legs, starts sliding on the laminate floors into a full, 4-way split until he's laying flat on his belly. Gabe will go out of his way to knock poor Nikki over any chance he gets. And Nikki, being a bit of a drama queen, uses this time to lay there as we yell at Gabe for knocking him over. After a few tries Nikki is on his feet and looking smug.
FINALLY we get them onto the porch and on to the screen porch to the door to the yard. At this point it's Gabe's still bouncing around and Nikki is surveying the yard for dew or rain (he refuses to set on foot..paw... on anything the slightest bit damp. With cookies in hand we'll open the door the little rascals will usually sit down on the patio right in front of us like perfect angels and accept their treat for being "perfect doggies".
And people ask me why I am on Xanax?