Saturday, November 14, 2009

Fat Free

Diet orange soda
Diet Coca-Cola
Diet butter
Diet chili dogs
Diet egg nog
Diet quarter pounders with cheese
Diet mayonnaise
Diet roast beef
Diet chicken thighs
Diet ribs
Diet whipped cream
Diet biscuits
Diet corn dogs
Diet smoked sausages
Diet cut pork loin roast
Diet ground beef patties
Diet Angel Food Cake
Diet pork pan sausage
Diet beef sandwich steak
Diet candy
Diet ribeye steak
Diet lard
Diet pig feet
Diet milkshakes
Diet sour cream
Diet beef franks
Diet pork chops
Diet ice cream sandwiches
Diet chitterlings
Diet fish sticks
Diet ham hocks
Diet cupcakes
Diet cube steak
Diet Lemon Meringue Pie
Diet Italian Cream Cake
Diet honey buns
Diet Twinkies
Diet fried grease balls
Diet ham hocks
Diet pizza
Diet tacos
Diet burritos
Diet popcorn
Diet funnel cakes
Diet melted cheese
Diet smothered pork


HOME

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Lust Sick

I love that I don't have a gag reflex
I loved pushing Bryan's head down hard on my dick
I pinched the pillows when he eased his dick up my ass
I love to drive around naked
I beat off to amateur gay porn
I want to come in Patrick's curly brown locks
I want to swallow his semen seed
I love to get my ass eaten
I love to eat ass
I love a big set of low-hanging balls
I love a hairy ass
I love big lips on white men
I'm a truck stop slut
I jack off with chicken grease
I love blues eyes with long thick lashes
I love getting fist-fucked
I love horse0hung dicks
I love sucking off men through glory holes of bathrooms
I love being watched
I love being pissed on
I love big thick dicks
I think gay rape is hot
I love cum on moustaches and beards
I love a clean asshole but I love a dirty asshole even more
I love the milk-white soft skin of red head men
I love nose rings, cock rings
I love dimples in ass cheeks
I don't love dick cheese
I love deep purple dick heads
I love musky pubic hair
I love brunets
I love flat asses, bubble butts
I love it when married men come to me because their wives won't blow them anymore
I love getting my nipples pinched and bitten
I love it when guys play hard to get
I love the smell of beer and cigarettes on men after they walk out of a bar
I love getting jacked off while I'm sucking a big cock
I love Scott's tattoos
I love grown ass men with braces
I love cock bulges in jeans and basketball shorts
I love to suck toes, foreskin that blankets over cock head
I love cuddle sluts
I love the smell of stale piss
I love cum dripping off lips
I love fingers that have been up my ass then forced in my mouth
I love slutty bottoms
I love getting my dick sucked, fucking men's asses, hairy bellies
I love fleshlights, black dildos, deep throat
I love tap foot for a blow job
I love it when Chris comes on my belly
I love tight punk assholes
I love pierced boners, butt plugs, titclamps
I love Latino thugs

Saturday, September 19, 2009

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Saturday, September 12, 2009

Poem of the Day

Dayplanning

Study for Cultural Anthropology test
Call Sylvan Learning Center
Mail manuscripts
Make up Christmas card list:
Mike
Todd
Jarret & Jennifer
Cynie
Dennis
Lu
Chris
David
Vy
Antler
Justin
Brian
Dominique
Chanta
Virgil

Do film presentation
Humanities, Barbara Reese, 3:00
See Lee
Renew Blue Velvet video
Go to video stores

Start Women’s Lit. Paper
Take David Lynch Notes
Call library
Buy Christmas cards
Check e-mail

Talk to Lee about money
E-mail Todd
Rent Fire Walk with Me
Write David Lynch stuff
Do poetry stuff for Women’s Lit.

Pick up cap and gown
Get stamps
Go to Eyrie office
Watch videos
Send David poem

DVD of Blue Velvet
Film presentation, 6:30-8:30
Commonplace journal paper due in Women’s Lit.
Go see professors
Last day of classes, YEA!!!!!!!

Anthropology test, 7:30 a.m.
Pay parking tickets, 50.00
Paper 5 due by 5p.m.
Get GRE waiver
Go to Financial Aid & Film School

Send poems to San Francisco State
Give school address to Todd and Mike
Look for job
Send off recommendation letters
Buy journals

Buy clothes
Get copy of crime report
Go to readmissions about financial aid record
Get rec. letters from Todd
Internship office

Career Placement Office
Print out resume & letter of interest for Sheila
Pay 45.00
E-mail Kim Burkes
Go pick up course packet from Target

Application for New School due
Pay car payment
Get transcripts
Send grad school fees
University of New Orleans, 20.00

New School, 30.00
Florida International, 20.00
Go by Mike Armstrong’s office
Go to Florida Dept. of Law
Get record, 15.00

Get dental insurance
Oil change
Buy shoes
Buy David Lachapelle book
Buy Coldplay cd

Kelis cd
Pickup crime record
Mail letters
Get letters from Sheila
See about getting records sealed

Buy Badly Drawn Boy cd
Write letter to Turner
Give address to Mike
Call Educaid
Apply for library job

Finish film review
Call Nancy
Send writing samples to Orlando Sentinels paper
Apply to all New York schools
Go talk to Lynda

Request Brooklyn college application
Enter Frank O’ Hara chapbook contest, 15.00
Film festival, 9to 5
Film and Lit. Conference
Buy books for Critical Issues Lit.

Order new Johnatha Brookes cd
Go to career center for resume online
Call Remedy Intelligent Services
Go to Barnes and Noble
Go buy chocolates for Mike

Give B. Faulk his Christmas card
E-mail Rita
Application for FIU due
Go see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Drop off letter of rec. to Mike

E-mail Faith Eidse
Send poems to Georgia State
Write letters of statement to Georgia State
Leave for New York
Buy books for classes

Get copy of Village Voice
Register for classes
Call Brooklyn College about dropping classes
New School orientation in Wollman Hall
Ask about work- study

Buy batteries
Get i.d.
Health insurance waived
Pay Allied 57.00
Back to school @ NSU 6-8:00

Reading on campus
Buy I Remember and other books
Go by Bursar’s office
Do paper for Polito’s class
Do poem for Polito

Finish lit. tree for D. Trinidad
Go to housing, ask about Union Square apt
Lunch with Scott, 5p.m.
Wayne Koestenbaum reading, 6:30
David Trinidad thing

Season Premiere of Buffy Vampire Slayer
Walk poem about WTC
MFA mixer at Poet’s House
Honor Moore & Jason Schinder, 7:30
Drinks at 7

Finish WTC poem
Roswell Premiere
Buy sodas, clothesbasket
Adrienne Rich reading
An October fest in honor of Gertrude Stein

Joe Brainard tribute
Zine meeting, 12:45 in cafeteria of GF building
18th Writing Lives Conference
19th Writing Lives Conference
20th Writing Lives Conference

Mike Albo
An evening with Cave Canem, 7:00
5:00, David Trinidad’s place, bring 5 poems
Poetry dog tags: Neck to Neck Haiku reading, 10:30, the Poetry Project
Tough Guys reading at the Lure

Polito’s class meets at 8:00
Mark Strand, 7:30
Go to library, get D. Parker books
Print out poem
Call AFSA

7:00, Gay & Les. Comm. Center reading
Media Studies info session
Paul Violi/Coleridge poems
Touched By Eros Anthology reading, 7:00
6:30 Vanderbilt Hall
Clifton/Olds reading 7p.m.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Poem of the Day, Spit and Cum

He pulls me like a gun, point blank to his mouth.
Mustache pricks my lips.
He takes my nipples between dirty fingers,
Strokes my dick in the bathroom mirror.
His ass assumes the position.
Pink, puckered, tight.
He crouches to my crotch.
Spit trickles to the base of my dick.
He doesn’t wait for me to come,
But zips up, washes hands and doesn’t look back to give eye contact.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Trip to a Tea Room

The start of a new semester has brought returning, as well as a new hot crop of college-age beefcakes for me to salivate over. The only problem is that none of them cruise the bathrooms. I sat in the stall on Monday for a good hour before anyone came along and sat down beside me in the accompanying stall, and he wasn't what I call drop dead fucking gorgeous. He was this skinny black twink with braids and toothpick thighs. I studied his dick through the glory hole. I signaled him with my finger to stick it through for sucking. It was of average length, cut. I drew in closer to smell it. It wasn't clean. It reeked of sweat and piss, so I passed on pleasuring him. I tapped it signaling him to retract his dick back through the hole. The two of us sat there in the dank bathroom waiting for the same thing. It didn't take long for someone to enter. I thought it was this white dude who kept frequenting the bathroom, one of those obnoxious assholes who can't stand to see another guy get some action. I'm not sure if it was him or not, really. All I heard was piss pelting in the urinal and then a guttural flush. Whomever it was washed his hands and left. I looked through the glory hole and noticed a set of legs in the stall next to the young black boy on the far left side of him. I stooped over until the muscles in my belly ached, at the set of shoes. They were dark brown, casual. I knew who it was. This chubby white boy, not so handsome. He has a short, uncut dick that has only been blown by the sluttiest of cruisers. I don't know his name, but he's been a student for years. He might be working on his doctorate. I don't know, maybe. I've never been interested in him and I'm always quick to let him know it.

I tell you, Bellamy is not like it used to be when I first started cruising back in '97. This guy I knew, Larry, a friend at the time, told me about the place. I was a freshman in junior college. I remember all the tickets I got for not having a parking decal plastered inside the windshield of my Ford Tempo. What a shit clunker that car was. The tickets I racked up was worth all the prime dick I sucked off through homemade glory holes. I took what I could living in a town with no gay bars, bookstores with dark back rooms or even a gay community center.

The first time I started I couldn't stay out of the bathrooms. Dick was a constant on my dirty mind. I would start at two in the afternoon and wouldn't leave until eight, sometimes nine o' clock at night with cum on my shirt. To cruise on campus was the high light of my day. I used to get so excited about getting some dick, I would get nauseous, but these days not so much anymore. It gets old fast. The same men cruising in and out who I wouldn't give the time of fucking day to. Troll, closeted professors who would hog the stalls, who would obnoxiously flip off the lights in pissed off frustration because I wouldn't leave, acting like they owned the fucking toilet. They still do this shit. Some things never change. They would get mad because I was better at wrangling up a cute boy here and there to suck off while they would spend half the day trying to rope the same guy. Yeah, those were the days. I wonder where those guys are now? Maybe some have moved to bigger cities with bathrooms with bigger glory holes. Maybe some are hitched with kids and they've just chalked up those days as just being some crazy college experience while others have lovers living domestically ever after with some bearded, button down bear. Who the hell knows.

Nothing has changed since I started. Just a little remodeling, the gutting out of old stalls only to be replaced by brown, fiberglass ones, some equipped with glory holes like the one I sat in. I think a janitor comes in to drill them. They're just too perfect and round.

The skinny black twink started to take an interest in the chubby boy. I figured he must be a newbie, because everyone knows Mr. Short Dick, and he ain't nothing to write home about. I watched as the black boy got on his knees. He shoved his dick under the partition that divided them. I could see Short Dick making a move. I watched the black guy beat him off. His ass was cute that rested on the heels of his black dress shoes. Neither of them made my dick hard. I heard Short Dick let out a few ohs and ahs before he came and hauled ass. After the young one finished him off, he turned to me. He pressed his mouth to the glory hole, hungering for my dick. He had a nice set of lips. I stood up and tried to work my dick through. I could only get the head of my dick through the hole due to the obstruction the tissue dispenser was causing. I felt his mouth, hot on the head of my dick. I pulled out, sat down on my toilet, and unfurled a tuft of tissue. I took a pen I brought and wrote: Lets switch stalls. I pushed the note through the glory hole. We respectfully switched stalls like two spies in some noir film. I stuck my dick through the hole without any trouble. He started to suck me. His mouth was like this wet, hot blanket enveloping my dick. I could hear spit spattering to the floor. I was so horny, it didn't take me long to come.

I rolled off some toilet paper and wiped my dick clean of spit. As usual, I didn't give him a second thought, and left the bathroom happily satisfied. I'm pretty sure I'll see him again. They always come back once they find a place they can frequent for dick.

Monday, August 24, 2009

A New Semester for Chris and the Pink Pages from My Niece's Diary

I picked Chris up from class today. It's the start of another semester for him, and I think he's going to have a very successful one. Our goal is to get him on the Dean's List. He's very smart. He's taking a full load, plus a Spanish II lab. Tallahassee is one of those big ol' college towns so when the students come back, it's like a fucking invasion of young folk, not to mention the plethora of college twinks to gawk at. (I love the word plethora.)

A part of me is happy that it's no longer me, but I do miss being a college student. I liked it a hell of a lot better than high school, which was a four year nightmare for an overweight gay boy. I find that it doesn't matter if it's grade school or college. That first day is always exciting. I think I'm living vicariously through Chris. I'm uber proud of him. I'm always happy to assist him with class assignments and papers. Had I continued on with my doctorate, I would probably be teaching at some college in New York by now, making good ass money. But no, I'm making minimum wage working at a crappy ass movie theatre with a masters degree I haven't been using.

I was scheduled to take two classes at the junior college here, but dropped them 'cause of my finances. I just didn't want to take out more financial aid being that I'm already 64k in college loan debt. Chris says it's good debt. Whatever that means. My credit is great. As in, I have none. :) But junior college is way cheap. Chris is taking 15 credit hours and it was only 1100.00. I was going to take up graphic design. I don't know. I will likely do it in the spring. That way my dad can pay for my classes with his disability check from his hip replacement surgery. Plus, I'm working on three book projects, so I was afraid I wouldn't have the time. I'm content with not having the responsibility of classes, writing papers on topics I'm forced to research, waiting in lines just to drop a course or waiting to get my pic taken for an ID card.

Thing is, I need to work at being more productive with my time. I need to do something with my life. I'm not getting any younger. I'm so sick of part time jobs that don't lead anywhere. I've been here for six years and I feel as if I've wasted away doing nothing to better my life. Yeah, I'm going back to school. I gotta do something.

Well, my niece and nephew are back in Orlando. My nephew started pre-k today. The boy is bad ass and never stops talking. I think his favorite word is 'bitch.' Don't ask me where he picked it up from. I'm guessing from listening to one of my niece's middle school-age friends. They start to curse like drunken sailors at that age. I stole a few diary pages from my niece. She would kill me if she knew I took her diary pages. Here's what she had to say:

Dear Diary,

the last day of school we had some music for artist Chirsten artist. When they were singing they call us up. And we had fun and every thing I love the big American flag side Ms. Ellis was spraying us with this shower pole whatever it is we had luch (lunch) then we did a ballon toss
My partner was Kalya we almost won until I drop the ballon twice. Then something happened Ms. Ellis had dump by water. by 3 people I am not telling. Then she got mad I did not know why she was mad. Until she told us in class. She had a earache. Anyways we did volleyball. People didn't want to play volleyball because you don't get wet we won wanted to go on the slide agian. We only did a couple of thing.

Dear. Diary

Some people Just be mean Like Cedia she alway calls me lame every time I ask her that she says no I don't want to be her freind she just tonya tonya tonya tonya she get on my last head I can't even talk to cedia any more because she is so popular. Yah right. she don't know how to swim and she's poor like a hobo

I AM SO MAD FEROUS (furious.)

Some people are always greedy does mamma know that she got a my space.

Ain't it cute, Ya'll? I will have more soon.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Stalls of Bellamy

I have just been witnessed to the waste of a good dick. And not only that, but the waste of a good dick attached to a smoking hot college boy. The Bellamy Building is the only infamous building on campus that's left where guys cruise for anonymous sex. Well, as far as I know. If there was another place to hook up, I sure as hell would know about it. The bathroom on the first floor is where most guys hang out. There's a glory hole that's been drilled in the wall that separates the two middle stalls. I can tell that some sort of tool was used 'cause the hole is perfectly cylindrical. The stall I was in has this awful over sized tissue dispenser that makes it difficult for anyone to shove their dick through the glory hole due to its obstruction. Anyone wanna circle jerk was written on it with black marker.

I've only been in the bathroom a few times this summer. The couple of times I came, it was empty and no one showed for any action. I get that guys frequent the place more when class is in session, but during the summers, weekends and holiday breaks, when there's no one on campus, you would think more guys would be cruising for dick and ass 'cause it's quiet and you run less of a risk of getting disturbed or caught by campus security. I don't think anyone has ever gotten busted by campus cops, though. Dudes are pretty cautious about that kind of shit.

So there I was sitting on the toilet. I must have sat there for about an hour. My legs were asleep. I was only on campus so I could maybe get some motivation for my introduction to my new erotic anthology I just wrapped up. Someone finally walked in. I waited, hoping he would take the stall next to me, which he did. I was horny and was in the mood to suck a fat one.

I watched him through the sizable glory hole. The guy pulled down his shorts and sat on the toilet. He wore flip-flops. His toes were perfectly pedicured. I leaned back until the steel pipes of my commode jabbed me in the spine of my back. I started playing with my dick. I knew he was looking to see what I had between my thighs. I get rejected sometimes. Either because I don't meet some guy's shallow standards or because I'm the wrong skin color.

He stood up, turned toward the glory hole, and maneuvered his dick gently through it. I took his meaty head into my mouth, then the rest of him past my lips. I took off my glasses and held them in my hand so they wouldn't graze against the partition, and get scratched. I was happy to have a dick in my mouth. I get that way sometimes where I just want to suck dick all day. I didn't know who he was, but that's the point of anonymous hook-ups. Names are never exchanged, faces are barely seen. I usually stand up afterwards to see the face of who I just blew or blew me. Some hide their faces behind hoodies. I only get to see the back of their heads. I was enjoying his dick until someone walked in. He quickly retracted his dick and sat back on the toilet. I watched him through the hole. The guy that had walked in, took the stall next to him. I watched the guy I was doing through the hole as he started to pay more attention to the boy that had taken the stall on the left side of him. My guy sat there playing with his earlobes. His hair was short to the scalp, grayish. He had this Richard Gere thing going. His skin was young. I watched him stoop over to study the movements of the guy. I was getting pissed when he stood back up off his toilet, turned to me once again, and re-worked his dick back through the glory hole. I sucked it for a good ten minutes with the other guy on the other side of us in our presence.

He flushed and exited his stall. I guess because he wasn't in on the action. He washed up and left the bathroom. The dick of the guy I was sucking was hard in my mouth. I wanted to make him come, but I suppose he grew sick of me and exited his stall. I heard someone enter. I stood up and looked over my partition. It was this dude with a buzz cut, greasy black hair. I couldn't see much of his face, but I could tell he was uber hot. He and the silver fox I was blowing left together. I had a feeling I knew where they were headed. So, I waited until I knew they were down the hall, and followed them. There's a bathroom on the ground floor where guys go for privacy, when they don't want to be disturbed or have another trick nose in on their action.

I took the stairs to the ground floor and went into the bathroom. The stall at the end was the bigger one. I looked under to find two sets of feet. It was them. I went into the stall next to them. I placed my notebook on top of the tissue dispenser. Most guys take off when they realize they've been followed, but these two stayed put, jacking each other off. They both had nice, hard dicks. Not as beautiful as Chris's, but nice. "I wanna suck both of ya'lls dicks." They paid me no attention. The guy with the buzz cut looked Hispanic. is dick curled up hard like a banana. The older guy I was sucking off upstairs looked familiar. I think he's a lawyer. I may have seen his mug in a local GLBT paper.

I stood outside their stall wanting them to open it up to me. I wanted their dicks in my mouth. The silver fox played with the dick of the darker, swarthier guy, until they turned each other loose and jacked their own pricks. Like I said, a waste. I would have sucked that twink dry instead of beating him off. He could have gone home to do what he was doing. He had the better dick too. Longer, harder. I peered at them over the door of their stall. It didn't take him long to come. He rolled off some tissue and wiped clean the tip of his dick.

The silver haired guy didn't wait around. He didn't come and neither did I. I walked over to the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. As I followed tail behind him, I looked over my shoulder at the young stranger exiting his stall. He looked at me. He was so cute, truly. Anonymous sex is so hot. I was mad that that older fucker didn't blow him. I might've swallowed his cum. Maybe.

I took the elevator back upstairs to the first floor bathroom. The older guy had made his way back before me. He was in my stall, so I took the one he was in. We did not take up where we left off, but just sat there quietly. He got up and left. I jacked off and left a few minutes later. The janitors were already in the building cleaning. My cousin's mom is one of them. I like to be out of there before they show up. I wonder if they know what goes on in the bathrooms? Probably do, but don't care.

School starts on Monday, and the campus will be strewn with both returning and new students, and that means hot new boys cruising for some action. I'll likely stop by everyday next week to see if I get lucky.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Poem of the Day, "Last Night"

Last night I bought a new dick ring.
Last night I pissed in his mouth like he begged me to.
Last night I jacked off three times.
Last night I sucked my own dick.
Last night I stretched my asshole with my brand new dildo.
Last night it hurt a little as Chris fucked me. Told him to be gentle, that it's been a while.
Last night I got the best blow job ever.
Last night I got gang-banged by some dirty truckers.
Last night I got my ass eaten. He said he likes it ripe.
Last night I met this cute Scandinavian boy.
Last night I shaved my balls.
Last night Tom sucked pancake syrup off my dick.
Last night I fucked a freckled ass.
Last night a married man cheated on his wife with me.
Last night I shot the biggest load.
Last night we wrestled in bacon grease.
Last night we fucked all night and snorted coke.
Last night my ass was arched in the air for him.
Last night my mouth was engorged with dick.
Last night I got my salad tossed in the bed of my Ford Ranger.
Last night I got my nipples sucked until they were sore.
Last night I was on my knees for what had to be six hours.
Last night I spanked his ass 'til red.
Last night I went over to Bill's.
Last night he was deep up my ass.
Last night I was just too drunk to remember.
Last night he sucked me off while he jacked his uncut dick.
Last night I was apart of a gay gang bang.
Last night I came all over his ass and back.
Last night I shoved Chris's dick hard down my throat.
Last night I really wanted his lips around my dick.
Last night I was kicked out for having sex in the booth.
Last night I sat on Bill's face.
Last night we got shit drunk off Guiness.
Last night he sucked my dick as we drank cheap champagne and listened to Amy Winehouse.
Last night he yelled, "Oh, man, you're fucking me hard."
Last night he fingered my asshole, bit my earlobes with ecstacy.
Last night he sucked and ate my asshole.
Last night we fucked each other's brains out under the influence of weed and booze.
Last night we agreed to bring a third guy over.
Last night the rubber came off in his asshole.
Last night it took me a long time to come.
Last night as he fucked me, I imagined it was Chris.
Last night I got a blow job in the front seat of my car.
Last night I was arrested for indecent exposure.

just because I forgot my wallet doesn't mean it's the end of the world, dang!

So when I drove up to pay for my lunch today at Chick-fil-A, and felt for my pocket to pull out my wallet, it wasn't there. My heart sank a little in my chest. I was a little embarrassed and felt like the biggest idiot. I told the girl in drive thru that I forgot my wallet. She took sympathy on me and I slowly drove off without me and Chris's lunch. There I was way across town, miles away from my house, but not that far from Chris's, and I forgot my damn wallet. I don't forget things like that. My wallet or my car keys.

I decided to head onward to his house anyway. I called as I drew closer to tell him what happened. He sounded annoyed needless to say. "I don't know why you just didn't turn back around and go home when you realized you had forgotten it." He acted like I'm always forgetting shit. Like I'm Mr. Absent-minded. I didn't turn around to go back 'cause, one I didn't want to drive all the way back on the south side of town to the country, and two, I had his birthday gift that I was going to give to him two days early 'cause seeing him on Thursdays is usually something the two of us are unsure of. I asked him if he had money, and he said no, which is fine. I thought of going to my bank to withdraw some cash 'cause we had planned on going out for beers after our lunch, but I realized I had to have I.D. and I didn't know my account number by heart yet anyway.

I told Chris I would turn around and head home to retrieve my wallet. It didn't take me as long as I thought, but I hated doing it nonetheless. I was quite annoyed with myself for forgetting it. I drove back to Chick-fil-A. I parked and went inside this time where it was cool and the service was uber faster. It was much too hot to sit in a drive-thru in August. It didn't take me long after that to get to Chris's. I text him minutes before arriving. I'm here. I turned into the driveway, killed the engine and waited. All the windows in my car were down. The air-conditioning died a year ago. $320 bucks to fix. Money I don't have. I waited for Chris to let the garage door up. I knew he was putting away his dog. I was still feeling a little annoyed and the heat wasn't helping.

Finally, he came. I grabbed his bagged gift and our lunch. Two 12 pack nuggets. He looked irritated with a sour look on his face. I hoped it wasn't because of me. I forgot my wallet. It happens. You better believe more than one, more than two people locked their car keys in their cars today.

I watched outside the kitchen door as he picked up his dog and took him into the other room. When I saw him, I walked in. I was tired, sweaty and hungry. The only thing I said was that I was hot. I sat on the sofa with our lunch, while Chris switched on the TV. I took out the contents in the bag that sat between us. We began to eat. He didn't offer me anything cold to drink this time. I guess because he figured we were going out for a couple of cold ones later. I blabbered on about almost forgetting his gift. He didn't say anything. He didn't even look at me, but just ate with his eyes glued to an old episode of Law and Order. I spilled a little Polynesian sauce on my jeans, but he didn't notice. We finished our nuggets. Chris opened the bag with his gift inside. A pair of Southpole jeans and a T-shirt to go with them. He wasn't excited. I guess because I buy him shit like that all the time. I was going to have it wrapped, but it just would have been a waste of pretty paper and cardboard.

I never know what to get him for birthdays or Christmases. It seems like he has everything. "Just get me a gift card," he told me, but that looks so insincere. He means much more to me than that. I attempted again to start an exchange of dialogue. "I think the fans of this show prefer it if both detectives are male." Chris just shrugged his shoulders and kept on watching. What the hell is wrong with him, I thought. I was sure I didn't do or say anything over the weekend to piss him off. It was then that I realized he sounded short with me on the phone too. I don't think he wanted to hang out. I don't think he wanted to look at my face today.

I hate that awkward silence. Even if the only thing we could hear was his dog barking. I wanted to fool around even if I promised I wouldn't bring up sex or his dick. Since it didn't look like we weren't going out for beers, I told him I needed to go, that I needed to go to the library to print out some stories that were submitted for three new projects I'm doing. I left not knowing what in the world he was upset about. I tried to get it out of him, but he just made it sound like I was the one who was pissed off, but I was fine, a little excited even that we were eating at his place. Besides, when I'm mad, he knows it, 'cause I don't say a word while we're hanging out. I guess today, he adopted that technique. I left feeling like I had been kicked out.

I hadn't even turned off the road he lives on before I text him to ask of he was all right. He swore he was. I was disappointed that we didn't go out. I always, always like hanging out with Chris. He can be so much fun. He's always what I need after a shitty weekend at my shitty movie theatre job. It's just that he's been in this pissy mood since last Wednesday. I developed hours after I sucked him off. He acted like I had mouth-raped him or something.

I just get so sick of arguing, tired of being mad with him about silly shit. I thought, is he annoyed with me 'cause I forgot the wallet?

Since it was the week his birthday was on, I told him I wanted to chill out. I didn't want to fuck his special day up. It just goes to show, sex before friendship, can fuck up any and all possibilities of something real. Things would be different if I hadn't have gone down on him five years ago.

I still want to take him out for his birthday, but I don't want things to be uber awkward. I just told him of this very concern. He says we can do that, that he will have to see how the week progresses. I hope we can do something fun at least one day this week.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Father's Day

This is something I wrote after reading a series of cute Father's Day wishes from kids that were listed in the Tallahassee Democrat. I thought I would take some of those sweet wishes and create my own version. Here it is below:

My daddy is the worse because he can't throw the ball very far. He also throws it too high.

My daddy doesn't help me with my homework, and he's not nice and I do not like him.

My daddy is not special because he is not very nice. The other thing I don't like about my daddy is that he doesn't play with me.

My daddy likes boating, but I don't like it.

I do not like my daddy because he likes boating and I don't like it.

My daddy does not love me.

My daddy is not good because he does not take care of me.

My daddy does not take me fishing. He doesn't play sports with me. I do not love him.

I don't like my daddy because he doesn't take me places and is super mean to me.

My daddy is nothing like me.

My daddy is never on TV.

My daddy doesn't play games on the computer with me.

My daddy is not funny. My daddy is not great cause he's loving or caring. He doesn't make me feel happy.

My daddy is never there for me. He is the worse dad in the world.

My daddy doesn't play croquet with me in the back yard. He is not my best friend and I don't love him.

My daddy is not number one. Why? He doesn't support me, and he doesn't love fishing.

My daddy hates fishing and I do too. I don't love my daddy because he doesn't take time with me.

My daddy can't fix stuff for me. He never builds stuff for me.

My daddy doesn't work hard and always gives up. He doesn't like to hunt a lot.

My daddy doesn't keep me safe. My daddy never teaches me things. My daddy can't pick me up and let me touch the ceiling. He can't pick up my bike and put me in his truck with me on my bike.

My daddy is the worse daddy in the whole wide world.
What up, Ya'll?

This is my first ever post to my first ever blog. I have gotten tons of people asking me to create a website or a blog of some kind for my work and accomplishments in the publishing and art world, so here it be. I suppose I will treat this like a diary if you will. Post up a poem, a few of my own collages, along with my everyday rants about how life is treating my ass. So, sit back, relax your mind, and enjoy.