Hot Hunk Haiku # 1,237

Stubbled Designer
Hot clothing and molten sex
You give great Gucci

Whoa- that's a large one

So, the boy and I have another date this coming Saturday.

We technically had two dates this past weekend: one Friday night into Saturday day, and then one Saturday night into early Sunday. Both were fun and good. So much so that we have thrown caution to the wind and we are doing it again this Saturday.

The boy-- whom we shall call Steve (for that's his name) is actually having a birthday today. However, he will be celebrating it on Friday with his friends. This may preclude an early get-together on Saturday, as I bet he will be hanging just a bit.

Speaking of 'hanging'...

Since its his birthday, and I really have only just met him, I am in a bit of a pickle as to what to get him. If anything. Technically I think it is bad form to ignore the birthday completely, so I already sent an eCard (hallmark- when you care enough to send the very best but don't care enough to pay for it) and wished him happy birthday on the phone (last night). But my thought is that I should give him something a bit more personal for his birthday. And well, I was thinking it should maybe be... for lack of a better term...

my buttcunt.

The only problem is I'm a bit nervous about how it will go. You see, the boy doesn't just have a package... its really more like 'cargo'. And even though my nickname is Whorina Slutskaya, I still have managed to keep things relatively snug down there.

And when I say 'snug' I really mean water tight.

So, if anything is going to happen and happen well, I will need to do a bit of extra prepwork. This prepwork will most likely include me getting somewhat drunk, and then hooking up a popper intravenous drip of some sort. Also I've heard about anal numbing creams... perhaps those are in order?

Regardless, I will NOT be doing any bikeriding for a few days afterward, I'm sure.

Mola ram, sula ram

This image accurately represents what happens to me on a daily basis now. The person in the image is a slightly better looking version of the person that is responsible for daily crushing my heart and spirit.

Ironically, this is the image that flashes in my mind as something I very much want to do to this person every time I have to interact with them.

I can almost smell this person's charbroiled flesh. It pleases me.

DudeService dot com

While performing a junk email 'high colonic', I stumbled across several interesting websites.

Seriously, my junkmail box was chockers with (other than the boring car warranty extensions and credit report offers) solicitations from 'manly' websites. Lots of different manly websites actually.

Here is a short list of some of the interesting ones:

bearlocator
biggercity
gayroughnecks
gaycowboys
hotjockstraps
meninjocks
bigmusclebears
topforty
dudeservice


Ahem. So what precisely does this say about my internet habits?

Dilemma

So, my dates (yes plurual) went well this weekend. We got together both Friday and Saturday night and had fun both nights. Saturday was much more low-key than Friday, but we still went out for sushi and then went to my place to watch a movie.

He's super nice, has a great job, great blue eyes, great body, great dog, etc. Things flowed very easily when we were together- conversation was easy, sitting on a couch was easy, lying in bed was easy...

I think we like the same type movies, both drink coffee (although he is a fan of starbucks), both like to eat the same types of food (sushi, thai, indian, pizza, snacks, etc), both like the same type of sex (I think).

Christ, he even knows and loves Drum and Bugle Corps!

BUT...

There are some subtle differences in our lifestyles and I'm trying to wrap my head around them.

He is definitely more of a party person. I mean, I'm outgoing and love occasionial parties and relish being the center of attention at a cocktail party, but he has a strong group of friends that he hangs with and they seem to be a party crowd. Drinking, carousing, going to bars, hanging out in public, having fun, etc.

I am decidedly NOT a drinker, or really a goer-outer. I think I proved that while trying to match him on our first date, and I ended up sicker than a dog. Even now, the thought of more alcohol turns my stomach a bit. And then we went out for a beer on Saturday night and I had to smile my way through about 1/3 of a beer before having him finish it for me.

Don't get me wrong, alcohol is cool and I do love beer and drink it occasionally. But I'm about a three beer guy-- three beers a month.

Listening to his stories and to hear him talk about the fun he has with his friends, I don't think I would fit in well if I was ever introduced to them. I would be able to be jokey and fun, but I wouldn't be able to drink with them. I would be the designated driver always. And you know how much fun that is when everyone has a buzz and finds the same shit funny, and then there you are on the outside looking in.

I think we also have different free-time ideas. He rides his bike for exercise, and I would love to ride my bike more often, so that's cool. But he is also a video game person... and I'm more of a playing music or reading person.

These are all things that give me pause, and make me think too much. I know I'm looking WAY to far ahead, but its hard not to when you've been alone 37 and a half years. How do you not ponder the future? Do I introduce this person to my friends? My family? Is this workable?

Or is this me being desperate not to be alone again?

Spring sprung

Spring finally hit in full force this weekend. Its been in the low 80's all weekend with sun and warmth and niceness and everything has come alive.

So naturally I've had to spend a lot of it indoors with band concert preparations.

All week the trees have been showing a hint of color-- like the leaves were just getting ready to burst open. And then seemingly overnight, they did just that. Today all the grees have a majority of that spring green look, rather than showing all that brown bark. The bradford pears are all full of white flowers and the redbuds are blooming in full force. And the dogwoods are just begining to open up.

In another week its going to be sickeningly gorgeous down here.

I wasn't joking about having a band concert either. Indoors of course. I have to be there at 2:30 today. I was in rehearsal from 2 - 4 pm yesterday for it as well. We are playing some cool and challenging music-- one piece I like in particular is especially brass-heavy which (being a brass player) I enjoy immensely.

I'll attempt to blog more on Monday- provided I don't end up in jail for killing someone at work.

The date....

.... went very well.

Super nice guy. Great blue eyes. Certain pictures did NOT do him justice- at all.

We met at the brazilian steakhouse for drinks-- and had several capoieras-caphirina?-caraoke? (or whatever the hell they're called). Its like a brazillian margarita, but with a special rum and fresh limes. They are deadly, I might add. I got very tipsy.

After lots of conversation and lots of laughing (we shared stories about bad dates and stalkers and embarassing moments, and talked about movies, etc) we decided a stretch of the legs was in order. So we went to "Homegoods" and made fun of all the atrocious crap that seems to populate this store. After a hotly contested competition to find the ugliest item, we both decided the winner was a pastel blue faux christmas tree made out of mirabou. Evidently its an 'easter tree'. Who knew?

I embarassed him there when upon seeing an entire display of ceramic and wicker roosters, I said in a loud voice, "I do like the cock."

We also had some fun winding up all the music boxes to make them play simultaneously. A serious female shopper looked at us in distain and said, "So this is how you have fun on a friday night?"

Bitch.

We then went to pizzaria Uno where we had a very flirty, bisexual waitress who was on exstacy or meth or something. We didn't stay past appetizers.

Dashed BACK to the brazillian place for some meat and another caphirina. Which turned out to be one too many for ol' cb. I did follow him back to his place as he lived close by, where I met his dog and I basically ended up passing out in his bed.

Well- sort of passing out. More like we just sort of got comfy, kissed awhile and then decided sleep sounded like a good idea.

I slept in my contacts for the first time. My eyes are hating life today. But I had a very good, very easygoing, very comfortable time.

So much so that I may see him again this evening after my band rehearsal.

Doppelganger.

I discovered my body double at the gym yesterday.

Well- not SPECIFICALLY a body double, seeing as I would have to lose 2 inches of height and about 40 pounds. And grow my hair out (and dye it darker).

But still a double.

As we were getting dressed out, I noticed he had a leg tattoo. It went around his right calf-- like mine does. His was more geometric, but still, he had a tattoo there.

And then I saw his left shoulder. Yup- a tattoo there too. His extended downward to just below t-shirt sleeve level, but again... similar and asian in design.

I saw him see my leg as I pulled on my shorts. I could tell he was curious and pondering the whole leg similarity thing too.

Then we pulled on our workout clothing. We both had on black champion shorts, and grey t-shirts. I had on short, white socks... while he opted for the short black socks. We both had on grey and white nike shoes.

As I did my cardio, I watched him lifting weights. And every so often I would catch him looking over at me too. Not in a gay way-- more of a "wow, kinda bizarre in the similarities" way.

And no, I didn't get to check the goods to see exactly HOW double we are...

I'm in trouble.

And no, i'm not pregnant (as if!)

I think I'm in trouble with this whole 'date thing' that is happening this friday with the cute guy from the naughty website that I started chatting with last weekend when I was bored and horny.

Oh, yes- there is a time and a place set for this "date". And I'm already stressing about it.

We've chatted a few more times and he is really easy to talk to. We laugh quite a bit over the phone, and joke around incessantly. He can quote the movie "the Color Purple" front to back (yikes, so can I!) and he dropped a little gem from the movie "Serial Mom" on me last night that really made me chuckle (I'm a sucker for obscure movie quotes and pop cultural references).

To use a sports analogy-- I think I've punted past my coverage.

Oh, and we may or may not have traded a few more pictures too (yowza!). Let me put it this way-- he's 6'3" and lanky... and we ALL know what that means!

And thus I begin to stress.

Actually, my stressing started last night during our phone conversation while I was stuffing myself with Edy's Girl Scout Cookie ice cream. We set the time (6:30 pm), date (Friday), place (Brasa, a brazillian steakhouse bar- with option for food).

Fuck.

What am I going to wear? I have to look put together, but not TOO put together. You know? I can't look as if I tried too hard, but like I still tried. And this isn't exactly a burger joint, either.

I have no good clothing to wear, as all my clothing gets worn to work and I work in a smelly, oily environment. Plus I have no decent black clothes in which to hide my fatness (other than the caftan, but its at the cleaners!)

I will have to wear boots of some kind, to compensate for the 3 inches of height difference, but the only decent boots I have are brown. This naturally requires a brown belt- all of which will definitely negate my ability to wear anything black.

I have an ingrown hair in my goatee that is creating a beautiful, subterranean behemoth of a zit. I hope it doesn't take over my entire lower jaw by friday.

I recently shaved my head (well, buzzed it anyway) and now I regret that decision as I no longer have any hair to style for this date. And it would have been nice to work some good hair product (ostensibly to draw attention upward, away from zitzilla).

See? I'm in trouble.

Black, Black Wednesday

And no, it isn't "Black, Black Wednesday" because I'm wearing all black today (which I am).

No, this is Black, Black Wednesday because someone that I work for has started back to work today. This person was out for a month and a half due to some semi-unfortunate (yet humerous) circumstances.

Lets just say that my work-life was infinitely better for these past, glorious 45 days.

And now that's over.

Yes, this person makes my bowels watery and my mood foul, and is directly responsible for 80% of my tension headaches.
And that fakey-fake "good morning" that I have to endure each and every day is enough to make the flesh want to melt from my face like a scene out of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Do I exaggerate? Not so much.

So far I have managed to avoid the flesh-melting salutation, but it is only a matter of time. I know its coming from all the advanced warning I am receiving.


Seriously, the effect throughout the workplace is like when Bugs Bunny walked through the symphony orchestra, and all the musicians started whispering, "Leopold. Leopold!" in waves.

As feared as Leopold Stokowski was, at least he got his musicians to excel-- and not look for another orchestra to play in.

I got the fever...

... for the flavor of a flat screen.

Yeah, I've had this fever for awhile. But since I don't even have cable (or satellite) how could I ever justify my love for a new tv? I couldn't-- until my price point was reached.

I was in Wal-mart (ew--- HISS-- EVIL EMPIRE!!!) the other day, and noticed that they had quite a few TVs on display. Including the LCD HDTV variety. I was instantly struck by an RCA model that had a fairly crisp picture. It was also 32" (that's the equivalent of four 8-inchers for you size queens out there!)

It was beautiful. And only around 800 dollars.

Yes, $800 is still a helluva lot for a tv... but prices are coming down. This gives me hope.

And who knows-- maybe I'll opt for the $600 version of the 28 incher.

P.S. I played my first ever xbox game at Walmart too... and I LIKED it! It was some driving game where you could crash into other cars to get them out of your way.

Um... what's a "date"?

What? Me no understand word "date". CB confused by new word. Honestly, its been so long that I don't remember the last official "date" I had.

Oh wait, yeah I do.

It was the guy I blogged about last summer-- the one who met me for coffee, was full of himself and tried rather too hard, and then when we stood up to leave, a rubber cockring fell out of his shorts and rolled across the ground.

Good times.

Most of my dates since then have consisted of me arriving at said 'bachelor pad', getting undressed, and shagging like crazed weasels. Not that there is much wrong with this, it just isn't technically a "date" as much as it is... well...

fucking.

I had a lot of time to kill this past weekend, and while on that not-so-virginal website, I started chatting with a guy. A single, cute guy one year older than myself. And not only was the conversation good, it led to a phone conversation which was also good. No- not phone sex either. Just good chatting.

We decided that we must meet up sometime soon for a drink and see how things go. Oh my god-- could this be an actual "date" of sorts? Dare I dream???

The only unfortunate thing is that we met on this really-not-quite-so-virginal website. Where we may or may not have already seen nekkid pictures of each other.

And discussed things like fetishes.

This makes me think that this date will be comprised of one beer, followed by a drive back to one of our respective places for a shagfest. Much like all my other recent "dates"-- only with a beer first. Well, a beer in PUBLIC anyway.

Sigh.

When did I transition from being a funny, nice guy who would be worth getting to know to a slam-piece worth only one fuck?

Photo Sunday

Yeah, I had kind of a shitty weekend. A shitty, do-nothing, uneventful, weekend. I didn't even drink on St. Patties day. I did however, get some new shoes (Simple brand) at marshalls-- along with some new Ben Sherman jeans. I love me some Ben Sherman. If you look closely enough in the picture, you can probably see some porn tapes on the floor-- which about sums up my Sunday.


Last week I decided to break out the old Levi Strauss jean jacket. Still fashionable after all these years. I think this one has been around since 1987 or so. The fade gives it away. However, I still sort of like them, and I predict they will be back in fashion in 6 months. At least down here in the South.


Spring is here- although you wouldn't know it by the 40 degree drop in temperatures we saw this weekend. It was 81 on thursday, 41 on Friday. I need for it to warm up so I can cruise the interstate with my top down-- you know, fishing for truckers!

Hot man haiku #18

Jesus effing Christ.
Not only hot, but funny
Damn you, Gods! Damn you!

All Tapped Out

I've been struggling to find suitable blog topics as of late. Partly because I've been swamped at work, and partly because my life is void of all things blogworthy.

But then I remembered something. This actually happened last weekend but I had forgotten about it until just now (ok, like 10 minutes earlier-- and then I logged on to blog about it).

Remember Kevin-- the guy that I liked and tried to go on a movie date with but he never called me back? The guy that doesn't drink coffee... or beer? Virgin guy?

Well, last Friday or Saturday evening I was on a not-so-virginal website where men meet to do not-so-virginal things to each other. I left my computer for awhile, and when I came back-- Lo! Two messages had appeared.

Funny thing-- these messages were from.... yes, Kevin.

The first message was merely a "hey" type message. But then immediately following it was a message that I found quite interesting (in a bit o' vomit in the mouth sort of way).

Message Header: Its Your Lucky Day

Body of message: Hey. Even though I am heading out for Florida again in the morning, I'll be back next week and won't be travelling for awhile. When I get back you can take me out on that date you've been wanting for so long!


Uggh. Really??

At first I was just going to ignore it. But then I thought perhaps I should reply-- its only proper online whore-website etiquette, no?

Reply: When you didn't return my calls and basically blew me off, I sort of lost interest in that date. Sorry.

Such is the life of cb.

Diet Soda and the South

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, it is exceedingly difficult to find good diet sodas in the South.

When I lived in the Midwest, I had a plethora of diet sodas to choose from, and I kept the rotation fresh. Fresca, Diet Rite Red Raspberry, Diet Rite Kiwi Strawberry, Diet Cherry 7up, Diet Cranberry Gingerale, Diet Sprite, Diet Sunkist... the list went on and on. Christ, I could even get Tab if I really wanted it.

And then I moved to the South. Where I have a choice of what appears to be Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi.

Yes, there are a few others-- the south seems to be big on Diet drinks of the Cola variety. I can get Diet Rite cola and Diet Dr. Pepper too. And there are the Diet "locals"-- like Diet Wink and Diet Cheerwine.

My problem is the caffeine. I only drink diet sodas that are caffeine free at night so that I don't stay awake.

Recently one of my two grocery stores (there are two within 2 miles of my house) started carrying a little wider variety. I wonder if this had anything to do with me complaining to the customer service desk repeatedly about not finding any variety. I have managed to find Diet Rite Red Raspberry now-- but they are fickle about stocking it.

And then last night I found it.

Diet Squirt.

Quite possibly the best diet soda ever! Very grapefruity. Very tart and tangy. Refreshingly crisp. I love it! It SO completely kicks Fresca's ass it isn't funny.

I very nearly bought the entire stock of fridge 12-packs tonight (there were three). But I didn't-- why deprive others of the joy that is Squirt.

Plus, from a gay man's perspective- the name rocks.

Crybaby McCryerton

I was a fucking blubbery mess last night. GODDAMN YOU, EXTREME HOME MAKEOVER!!!

Yeah, I chose to watch it (there was nothing else really on (except a good Simpsons featuring a battle royale over a box fort). The premise: Single mother of three's house burns down, during rebuilding process son is killed in car accident, then money runs out and house sits unfinished. Added bonus: son was an organ donor.

You can see where this is going already.

One of the daughters was in the car too when the son died (not his fault- driver swerved over middle line and got them head on). Daughter walked away without a scratch but basically had to watch her brother die- and subsequently feels guilty.

Mom and daughters miss son every day. Mom kisses a picture of her son every time she enters the house. Talks about the importance of organ donation and that she is happy in the knowledge that her son is helping other's live through his gift. Says she really wants to meet the girl who received his heart.

Whole town and school rallies behind the family to fix the house that her son helped design. Also donates money to pay off the mortgage. Everyone signs up to be organ donors.

Then the family actually gets to meet the girl who received the son's heart. Crying and hugging all around. Parents of heart girl talk about how great a gift it was and that they are so thankful that their daughter got a second chance.

Then during the home reveal, there's a piece of art on the wall. When they look closer-- its from heart girl. She's an artist, and the picture is a water color of a landscape and home- but its done in a way that the outline of the piece is heart shaped.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I had to call my mother because I knew she would be watching. She was sobbing into the phone- especially after the damn heart picture.

Wow. What a mess.

Go see "300"

I've decided that modern cinema isn't a total waste after all.

Things have gotten so high tech with movies nowadays, that I find very little reaches out and grabs me cinematically. I mean, CGI is used for EVERYTHING, and the whole point was to make epic movies with an exceedingly realistic quality. The monsters look real. The scenery looks real. The talking animals look real. Everything has become so realistic that it has become rather boring.

So that's why I gravitate to what I call ExtraRealistic films. One might even say Hyperrealistic-- but I like the first term better. Like Extraterrestrial. or Extraordinary. Films like the recent Pan's Labyrinth. Or Sin City. Or Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. All films that are visually set apart from our run of the mill action/epics.

Sure there are monsters and bizarre mancreatures in "300" and they seem realistic. And yes there are some campy moments. But there is this stretch and texture to the film that makes it all more fantastical. More bizarre. More shockingly beautiful.

Not to mention the absolute parade of manflesh in the movie! But really the movie is more than that.

The movie on a whole is visually stunning. It has beautiful cinematography-- even if the use of wheat fields is SO Gladiator. But the grainy, gritty texture and smoky atmospheres are brilliant. And then there is the gratuitous use of slow motion and what I like to call "the Graphic Arts Effects". The use of extreme camera angles, closeups, odd points of view, etc all give it the look and feel of a graphic novel.

And I LOVE that!

I can't type any more without giving any spoilers or anything more about the film. Just go see it.

P.S. Stay for the closing credits. They are beautiful.

Smells Like Man Spirit

Mmmmmm, don't you just love the smell of hot boy?

And by hot, I mean temperature-wise, not looks wise. And by boy I mean generic term for male human.

Yesterday I was nearly incapacitated by a guy that I work with. Remember, I work in a factory that is about 70% male (69.9% redneck). A lot of the male workforce is in the 25 - 35 year old age range, blue collar, masculine, rangy, scruffy, beer drinkin', truck drivin', and generally pleasing to the eye.

This particular 'boy' is probably 25, about 6'2", 240#, and hunky gorgeous. We'll call him "Mack". Mack is a supervisor and because we were having a problem yesterday, he kept visiting me for help. I could smell him from about 3 feet away.

Not a bad smell, mind you. No. Qutie the opposite really. He smelled like he had lifted weights (which I know he does) just prior to his shift. And then perhaps didn't shower because he didn't get THAT sweaty. So he just slapped on some Speed Stick and then got dressed.

It was all I could do to contain myself. I felt like the fucking girls from the Axe body spray commercials!

What a heady combination of deoderant, sweat, hot body, clothing, weight bench, locker room, and pheremones!

I really hope he showers today before work. I won't be able to walk if he doesn't.

You can achieve your dreams... and realize your goals...

Beefcake. BEEF CAKE!!!

The above quote was from Eric Cartman when he used the weight gain 3000 and blew up to Gilbert Grape proportions.

But I use it out of context to illustrate the reason why I'll be cueing up this weekend to see the movie "300". (subtitled 300 Boners by me)



I blame Greek Mythology for making me gay. I was completely into it during my formative years, and what with all those Gods, Titans and Heroes lounging around in naught but the barest hint of diaphanous cloth.... well, you can just see that I had to take about 12 moments during the labors of Hercules alone.

This movie is going to have everything a gay man could want. Mostly naked, muscular men in skivvies wrestling about with other mostly naked men. Cameraderie. Brotherhoods. MANhoods.

Sigh.

In fact, I think I shall endeavor to see it presented in an IMAX theater. After all, I always have been a bit of a 'size King'...

Pan Fully Restored???

Enjoy the fully restored re-release of Disney's classic "Peter Pan"... including all the RACISM!

Your children will greet this film with a big "How" as the "Piccaninny Tribe" of Injuns dances and performs the hit number "What makes the Red Man Red?"

Fun for all ages!

Procrastination is making me wait....

When it comes to certain things, I move like Heinz Ketchup.

And its more than procrastination, its laziness. Pure and simple. If there is something that I deem unsavory, I'll put it off in favor of doing anything and everything I like better.

I notoriously pay my bills late. So late, in fact, that i've had my power turned off before for failing to pay a bill in time. And this applies to any bill that isn't on autodraft. And yes I know this isn't good for credit ratings and such, Dad--- but I truly don't care. If I can't get a home loan again, I'll get an apartment. No sweat.

And its not like I DON'T pay off everything or have declared bankruptcy... I just pay them when I'm bloody well ready.

Same thing with home repairs. Or car repairs. Monday I basically sat all day waiting for an autoshop to put new brakes and rotors on my MINI. Since MINIs are unusual cars in this area-- it has required a lot of extra effort to get parts, etc. What a mess. But the brakes were grinding and it was time.

While there I got my state emissions inspection completed too-- it was only 5 months overdue. Now if I could only get that pesky insurance lapse taken care of...

I have home repairs that are really necessary too-- but I haven't done them yet. I also need to sell my fucking house, but I haven't done the repairs so I haven't put it on the market.

I crave a simpler life. Less junk. Fewer posessions. No home maintenance fees or yards to mow.

Mostly Good Saturday!

Subtitled: How I should just never go out, Part II)

Other than the going out to the gay bars part of it, Saturday was a really good day.

I got to sleep in. I finished cleaning my house. I bought another orchid. I figured out the 32 bar section in the Third Horseman that has been plaguing me (pun intended... third horse... pestilence... plaguing me.... ha ha ha). Saw the lunar eclipse. Had house guests come into town for some fun.

I'm most pleased about the compositional work that I did on Saturday. Not that I'm anything other than a flat out amateur at this stuff, but I still managed to create something from an idea that I heard in my head. And I think it came out decently enough to get me fully gassed about it.

(here's where I lose you)

I was stuck on this section. I was, or thought I was, hearing a fugal thing going on. The trouble is that I've never learned how to write counterpoint or fugues or anything-- and this as you can image was hampering me quite a bit. But then thank god for my piano lessons. I had recently been playing a couple pieces (one Chopin, one Copland) that use hemiola (3 versus 2 feeling). Its a bitch for me to play, but BAM! Epiphany. I could USE a similar technique in this section--at least for the low brass statement!

So I did. And the rest of the section fell into place. Mostly. I still need to tweak it a bit, but its all there. Oh, and technically what I used was not-quite-hemiola as I was doing a 2 versus 2.5 thing.... its weird but you just have to hear it.

But then the day was sort of spoiled by going out. Not that the bars weren't fun... they sort of were. But going out just serves to highlight how alone I am most of the time.

First stop was Flex-- where it was Bear-eoke Night. Not that gay men belting out country songs and show tunes isn't a good time-- well, ok its not that good a time. When we arrived, some poor bear was singing Bohemian Rhapsody-- by himself. He had a good voice, but the whole "I see a little silloutette of a man... " section was just bad. Of course when we looked to see who was butchering it, we ended up knowing the guy! It was part of a couplethat we know.

(he even did the whole "any way the wind blows" part at the very end--- AFTER the song had ended, just to grandstand a bit. Too bad he was a step sharp on the last note....)

At CC's-the next bar- there was at least good dance music. And we did dance. And there were many very good looking men. All of whom had partners. Including the nerdy-cute guy who was severely hitting on me-- pushing his groin into my leg, etc. I asked him why he didn't have a boyfriend. His hesitation told me everything. So I asked him how long they had been going out. SEVEN years as it turns out. And he was looking to play on his own that night.

Sorry, wrong number.

And then there's the boy whom we'll call Mason (for that's not his name but his real name rhymes with it). Mason is cute. VERY cute. Intensely cute. I think he's a doll. Sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, beard, stocky, legs like tree trunks, ass as firm as a bundt cake... the usual. Super sweet guy. Good job-- although with non-datable hours. AND he loves drum and bugle corps!!

Match made in heaven, right?

Yeah, except for the one tiny fact that he doesn't appear to want me. He would hover around me for awhile, and then excuse himself to go wander the bar. And him not initiating any conversation-- yeah, that tends to give me a BIG ol' clue. And the 'never really looking at me' thing.

Sigh.

But at least he saved me from the horny, married guy. Guess I'm pretty lucky, huh?

Spring is in the air

We've had a delicious spate of warm weather the past week or so. Temps in the 60's always make me giddy at this time of year. That and it makes me want to clean.

As I am having some out of town visitors this evening (Kev Kev and his roommate phil) I have even more impetus to clean. So I tore through my house last night and this morning and I have reorganized, thrown out, swept, dusted, alphabetized, and vacuumed to my greasy little heart's content. I always forget how much better I feel when my house is clean. And man it needed it!

Because of my "hopelessly single with absolutely no prospects in my future" state of being, i don't have to keep a clean house. I mean, why bother, right? Its why I've gained so much weight too. Anyway, my place had been degenerating all winter. I found old bills and mail dating back to October of last year! I tossed so much accumulative crap it filled my huge outdoor garbage can.

Now my place is presentable and I feel pretty good again. Perhaps I'll start working out more too.

Other signs of spring include the daffodils blooming in my yard already. Probably the crocus too, I just haven't checked them out closely.

Also of note, I have NOT killed my one remaining orchid, and not only is it surviving... it appears to be thriving! As I was watering it this morning, I noticed a new, small,green shoot at its base. Hooray! This thing hasn't bloomed in about a year so its time. I can't wait.! I've never had one bloom from scratch before.

It may be time to try buying another orchid!

Auntie Em! Uncle Henry! I'm an idiot!!!

Tragedy struck yesterday afternoon, as a tornado ripped through the high school at Enterprise, Alabama. Several students died when the roof of the auditorium/gymnasium when the students were gathered for safety collasped on top of them.

WHAT??

You have got to be shitting me! What the fuck kind of school herds kids into a gymnasium or auditorium for "safety" during a tornado? That area is second only to doublewide trailers as THE WORST POSSIBLE PLACE to be during a tornado.

What the fuck kind of school administration IS this? Interior hallways, no windows, bathrooms, lockerrooms, etc are where you should go.

We had tornado drills as children where we lined up in the hallways, sat down, and covered our heads with text books.

I mean, I KNOW that Alabama is like 50th in education-- but wow. Really???

ANTM Returns!

Thank Buddha! FINALLY some good TV!

I love me some Tyra. She's fun and beautiful. I would totaly switch for her. Ok, maybe not switch, but I would totally become her best friend and braid her hair and stuff...

America's Next Top Model has finally returned with season 8. I must say, I'm not overly impressed with this season's brood- but its still early. I had my early favorites (Sara and Renee) but both have turned out to be quite twatish. And the russian mail order bride chick (not joking about that) has just GOT to go. There's a couple plus-sized girls on there too, and I sorta am rooting for them. And then there's scary latina chick. She honestly looks like she's severely anorexic, but she takes a good pic.

A couple other women that I am in lust with are:

God Bless Rebecca Romijn-Stamos now just Romijn! I loved the X men movies because of her, I watched that damn Pepper Dennis show because of her, and now I sort of like Ugly Betty because of her.


And the heavenly Vanessa Williams. I went and saved the best for last with her. Damn she fine! And I had so much respect for her that have never even looked at her nudie pics (not that they hurt her career any).