Me (left) and Jonah (right).

Me (left) and Jonah (right). At Jonah's place.

May 31, 2003 | 12:32 AM | Link | 0 comments

Stress, alcohol, and relaxation.

Bored and alone in my room last night, I decided to give the twin™ a call. He was at a little bar/club that I don't typically care that much for¹. He invited me to join him, Jo(h)n, and Jo(h)n's boss (who we'll call Em) for drinks. It sounded fun, so I gathered my things and headed towards the gayborhood.

I arrived to an open bar tab (it was Em's birthday) and a surprisingly full night. The music was nothing to write home about since it was just the noise of a drag show. I was distressed to have to walk right next to and past the drag queen who was performing in order to find my friends.

I found them all outside on the smoking patio. The only one who was obviously drunk was Em. He had shaven his head since the last time I saw him, and it suited him well. All talk was of sex, which after a while started to grate at my patience. Don't get me wrong—I love talking about (and even having) sex. It makes for lively conversation and good aerobic exercise. It was not the topic itself that was irritating me, but rather the boastful-autobiographical attitude in which it was being portrayed.

I initially felt physically attracted to Em, but had decided against sleeping with him for several reasons. One reason was that he seemed to be quite the gossip—I do not want my dirty business spread around town. Another reason was how boastful he was about his sexual skill-set. The third reason was that he was on a candid mission to hook up with either my twin™, myself, or both. I would not have that.

Four G&T's later: My tune has changed, and my judgment is skewed.

Something I feel dirty about is that, in my drunken state, I started playing around with Em after he had been rejected by Michael. At this point, the little voice in my head that tells me not to do things I shouldn't had drowned in a deep vat of Sapphire. There was no stopping me. Jo(h)n gave me sarcastic disapproving glances, and Michael drunkenly tried to pull me away from him, but I just kept on going.

We ended up at his place where we had sex. I let him top me (which I don't really enjoy that much) since it was his birthday. Some present, eh? Mostly, I was curious if he would live up to his own descriptions of himself². Again, I was very, very drunk (but safe, of course). Most of the time, if I bottom, it kills my ability to get off for at least a short while after the guy has finished fucking me—it's just the way I'm built. Since we were so drunk, we passed out immediately after. I ended up not getting off at all. I didn't really mind, though... sex, to me, isn't only about the orgasm.

I woke up in the morning, opened my eyes, and thought "Where the hell am I?" I remembered in an instant. I got up and looked at the time (it was about 6:30 am... luckily I had not overslept), got dressed, and took Em to his car. I stopped and got a bite to eat on the way home, and then slept for an hour before, trooper that I am, actually came into the office for a full day of work.

How's that for candidly writing about my sex life?

1. This is a place my good friend Cesar describes as a bar full of ugly midgets... "Not even cute ones," he says, "ugly ones!"

2. Word to the wise: It's best to undersell yourself, then surprise and impress, than to oversell yourself and disappoint.

May 29, 2003 | 1:06 PM | Link | 0 comments

People are stupid

Enough said.

May 27, 2003 | 12:39 PM | Link | 0 comments

Well duh!

If I was a serial killer I would be Jack the Ripper.

Jack the Ripper is by far the most notorious killer of all time. What would drive a man to kill 5 prostitutes, surgically mutilate the bodies, then stop, to never be heard from again? Most of the murders were pretty much the same, the victim had her throat cut and her abdomen exposed, the intestines were placed over her right shoulder and sometimes a kidney or even the heart had been removed. Jack the Ripper's murders are still unsolved.

Kill count: 5

Find what serial killer you would be, Take the Serial Killer Quiz now!

Let me know who you would be. Leave your results in the comments below.

May 27, 2003 | 10:33 AM | Link | 0 comments

A vomitus morning.

I was disillusioned to find that my Shorter OED only makes passing mention of the word upchuck. I think they should dedicate more space for it, like they did for the word set. Set has more uses than any other word in the english language. My dictionary has three and a half pages set aside for it.

Another great word is sic. I love that word because it says, in one quick syllable, that whatever fucked up verbiage or misspelling you've just presented the reader (or listener) with is not your mistake. It's such a fast and proper way to draw attention away from yourself, and on to another's fuck-up. Great fun.

Holy shit! Had I found this earlier, I could have gotten the full OED for $995. That's a $2,000 discount. Not that I'm prepared to drop a grand on anything at the moment, but still: Holy shit. They must have had a surplus. I guess the english language just isn't as hot as they predicted it would be.

I also want to own this one. Just for fun, I've added it to my Amazon wish list. Lets see if anyone decides to get it for me.

One day, I'll own every version of the OED, and all will be merry. Until then, I'll persistently misuse words like decimate and altercate. Maybe after a while, somebody will take pity and buy them for me.

May 23, 2003 | 2:42 PM | Link | 0 comments

I just stapled my finger.

I just stapled my finger. It was an accident. I swear.

May 22, 2003 | 5:16 PM | Link | 0 comments

Granted.

Every once in a while something will happen in the office that reminds me just how lucky I am to work here. Today it was an impromptu wine party. We all huddled in the literature room and drank wine over brie and pâté. My taste buds are happy, and I'm reminded I shouldn't be so quick to complain.

May 20, 2003 | 3:43 PM | Link | 0 comments

Pass the Remote.

On Bowery and 2nd lives a little place called Remote Lounge. It's filled with tiny cameras and television screens. You sit at a console and choose who you want to spy on. Pick up the phone and listen closely to the conversations people don't realize you can hear. If you see something interesting, press the photo button to immortalize the image on their web site.

If you are so inclined, you can observe a couple breaking up, as did Furious and I. You can listen to a group of friends drone on and on about whether or not they like the bar. You can eavesdrop on a man and a woman out on a date (until a friend unwittingly blows your cover, at least). You can point the camera down on the bartender's cleavage and snap photos galore. Furious and I spent a bit of time pointing as many of the cameras as we could on ourselves. The possibilities are slightly endless.

I'm sure it gets tired fast. Most people I mentioned the place to hadn't anything nice to say. Who knows how long it will last? For now, you can enjoy these snapshots of me, Furious, and Janelle discovering the place for the first time. Do note Furious' lovely mohawk. He had to shave it off upon returning to work.

May 20, 2003 | 11:29 AM | Link | 0 comments

Introduction.

Alone in a bar on my first night in New York, I sipped my Sapphire & Tonic and read the local rags by candlelight. The bar was empty, except for two other patrons and the bartender. The door was locked so nobody else could enter. I was being watched.

"Do you mind a little nudity? They want to get naked." Norm, the hot bartender, motioned over towards the patrons on the opposite end of the bar.

"I don't mind. They can do whatever they want."

I remained entranced in the local bar listings as the two patrons approached me. The younger one introduced himself as Brian. The older one had another name, which I cannot recall. Brian broke the ice by repeating Norm's question. I repeated to him that I had no problem with his stripping. He inched closer to me. I inched further from him.

The older gentleman unzipped Brian's pants and pulled out his hard cock. The cock was considerably more attractive than the body it carried along.

"You can look," Brian informed me, "I don't mind. It's just my body."

I had looked. I now knew what it looked like. Since I had no wish to go any further, I turned back to the magazine. The older man suggested putting on a show. I liked the idea. They asked me to go downstairs with them. I closed the magazine and walked down the stairs, awaiting their performance.

Right away, it was evident that theirs was an interactive show. Audience participation was a must. I was not that kind of audience. Not tonight. Not with them. I went back upstairs to chat with Norm. Brian and the older gentleman quickly followed. I went to the bathroom—door locked.

I returned to the bar to find Brian sprawled across two barstools with his erect cock exposed. The older gentleman stroked it slowly. Brian sat up and hopped onto the bar. I sat down at my previously claimed stool and once again turned back to the magazine. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted them to carry on as if I weren't there. Brian's midsection pointed toward me as he begged me to touch it. I didn't touch it. He thought I was being shy. I wasn't. He was slightly gross.

The lights in the bar flickered on. It was officially closing time. Brian gave me his number. He said he would like to 'hang out' sometime during my visit. "No, really," he insisted, "hang out."

-=- Funny Little Man -=-

May 19, 2003 | 4:28 PM | Link | 0 comments

Kill me now.

My first day back at work does not have me in the best of moods. All this email is about one stupid little non-issue. Should we have periods filling the tabs in the Table of Contents: Yes or No?

!!!

People are too stupid to just push the goddamn delete key! I have had to sit through many, many nonsensical email wars over these goddamn TDS templates! I don't know how much longer I can take it.

How do people even keep their jobs?

May 19, 2003 | 10:28 AM | Link | 0 comments

Exhaust.

I'm not quite sure how to sum up what a fabulous time I had in NYC. The places I went, and the people I met were all so great! Right now all I want to do is get some much-needed sleep.

Stories will follow. Funny stories. Sexy stories.

May 15, 2003 | 7:03 PM | Link | 0 comments

Grace Jones fucking rocks. ...and

Grace Jones fucking rocks.

...and I'm still in New York.

May 11, 2003 | 12:38 PM | Link | 0 comments

Rush.

I'm off to New York.

It's going to be a hectic day of travel.

I'll post soon enough... from the Apple store in Soho.

May 5, 2003 | 7:06 AM | Link | 0 comments

Just my luck.

I've been looking around the net, and am getting very disappointed. First I found out that Baby is not, in fact, playing while I am in new York—they are playing the day after Ieave. I was extremely excited about seeing them. W.I.T. plays Berliniamsberg two days before my trip. Peaches is playing three days after I come back home. What's up with that?

Me upset.

May 2, 2003 | 4:27 PM | Link | 0 comments

I chose to do it.

I got three hours of sleep.
My eyes were quite dry and red.
My hair felt exceptionally soft.
I didn't eat until this morning.
I am still hungry.

May 2, 2003 | 9:46 AM | Link | 0 comments

I need drugs, I think.

Yesterday I signed up for a membership with 24 Hour Fitness. I joined through my company since the rate is so low ($12 a month) and there is no contract. Now there's just the little matter of actually using it.

My social anxiety has driven me to ridiculous measures. The mere act of writing about this is giving me a stomach ache. Last night I drove over to the local 24 Hour Fitness to scope out when the place is most empty. I went first at 12:30, then again at 2:30. I didn't go into the gym. I just sat in my car outside for about a minute and tried to peer through the vertical blinds.

Who the hell works out at 2:30 a.m.? Maybe they're all socially anxious. Maybe If I go in there I will find a scattering of people afraid to look each other in the eye, horrified by the thought of other people witnessing them exercise. Maybe it will be a bunch of 'straight' men looking for a 3 a.m. sucky-sucky (which terrifies me even more, since that means they will be watching everyone else exercise).

I'm starting to think I should get help with this. Years ago, I remember seeing a commercial for a drug for the socially anxious. I don't know. I really don't want to take drugs. I also really want to overcome these irrational fears. Maybe it will be best to just thrust myself into the situation. It might work, it might not. Even after years of gymnastics, I still get butterflies in my stomach on the drive there, knowing that there will still be a few people using the gym for the first half of my lesson.

May 1, 2003 | 10:57 AM | Link | 0 comments

Nothing to do.

Well, I guess the title of this post isn't quite true. I do have a couple minor things to do, but since I am going on vacation in two days I have whittled my workload down to insignificant nothings. I have to ship a CD to Canada, and I have to create an ad.

I guess an ad isn't a significant nothing, per se, but I have been putting it off for so long it no longer feels important to me. I've no sense of urgency. I'm already in vacation mode and I'm loving every moment of it!