After spending the afternoon enjoying the 60 degree weather and doing a big bag of laundry, I puttered around the apartment, ran a couple of errands, paid some bills online and got ready to go out. Musician/DJ and all around cool guy Corey Tut was performing an acoustic set at Starlight in the East Village. I've always liked that bar and the space in back is perfect for an intimate showcase. About 30 people (if not more) showed up and filled the room, no mean feat considering it was 9 pm, and Corey was great. An acoustic folk/rock set of about 10-12 numbers. There were quite a few people from The Slide in attendance as Corey still has a standing gig there. It was good to see some of them again. After the show some people hung out and there was talk of going to The Cock, but I really wanted to get home. So I did. Watched some crappy TV with The Hellcat and finally retired around 3:30. I know, exciting, right?

I slept rather badly, tossing and turning all night. I woke up several times and almost hourly by morning. I threw a leg/butt routine into my workout on Sunday and while I was careful not to overdo to the point that my legs totally stiffened up, I did tweak my lower back and that pain woke me up several times. I literally creaked and hobbled out of bed. Tonight I start a weekly yoga class. Hopefully, that will repair some of the damage, and give me some added flexibility.

The plan for today: Therapy this afternoon. Have to pick up some prescriptions. The aformentioned cataloguing of my comic collection continues. There are lots and lots of comic books. Yoga tonight. It's rainy and windy and I have a headache.

"You are an evil human being" - Judge Citta to convicted killer Richard Rogers

I've been remiss in reporting it here, but I've been following the twist and turns in the capture and trial of serial killer Richard Rogers Jr. In case you don't know of it, several gay men disappeared around 1992, '93. At least two turned up dismembered and in plastic bags along the Jersey highway. Many of the men were last seen at different NYC gay bars, among them the now-closed Five Oaks and my former place of employment The Townhouse. I was in New York at the time and I was an occasional patron at The Oaks. Although I don't remember being particularly personally worried about the situation, I thought we had enough to deal with what with AIDS and all, why let a serial killer make things worse?

I do remember The Townhouse being linked to the case but forgot it by the time I started working there, almost 10 years later. That is, until the investigation was reopened or revisited, I don't know which, and Mr. Rogers was first arrested. Suddenly the case made all the papers, gay and mainstream, as he was linked to, but never charged with, up to five (if not more) deaths over the years. As investigators tried to build a case for the bodies they had, they also attempted to solve some other disappearences. Naturally, they came back to the scene.

I know for a fact I talked to a pair of Jersey State Troopers. I'm pretty sure I spoke to a couple of NYPD investigators as well. There was maybe one other time I talked to a solo detective. It was the strangest thing. Because I wasn't even working there at that time. I knew of a couple people who had been, including a piano player that opened the place. I think one of the bartenders was around then as well. The only thing I could tell the detectives is what they told me. So I did. Still, they wanted me to answer questions so answer them I did. Most of my answers were of the "I don't know" variety but I didn't want to seem uncooperative.

In any case, this week Richard Rogers Jr. was sentenced to two consecutive life sentences for the murders they could link to him, plus an additional 10 years for the gruesome action of dumping the bodies in pieces. His laywer claims there will be an appeal.

Had some fresh bloodwork today. Results in a couple of weeks. I'm prety confidant the results will be good.

Afterward I stopped in to Old Gravy. I couldn't resist a $7.00 pair of cords or a cute flannel shirt on sale for $3.95. I look good in flannel. Seriously. From there I checked out the clearance section at Bed, Bath and Beyonce. I found sheet sets. I put up a valiant struggle. In the end, I came upon a queen size set that sold for $140 marked down to $40. They were maroon and gold and included a fitted sheet, top sheet and matching pillowcases. Plus, it matched a lot of the sheets and pillowcases I already own. Plus, I realized after the fact that while I've had sheets that matched, I've never owned an entire matching sheet set. In the end, I lost the fight. If I have to sleep alone I may as well be in luxury.

I took a couple of pictures of my new and quite masculine bedding. I'll post them sometime this weekend. For now, I can't wait to to get naked and slide in to my fresh new sheets.

From The New York Times:

Kathryn Hanson, a former telecommunications engineer who lives in Oakland, Calif., was looking at BBC News online last week when she came across an item about a British politician who had resigned over a reported affair with a "rent boy."

It was the first time Ms. Hanson had seen the term, so, in search of a definition, she typed it into Google. As Ms. Hanson scrolled through the results, she saw that several of the sites were available only to people over 18. She suddenly had a frightening thought. Would Google have to inform the government that she was looking for a rent boy - a young male prostitute?
Ms. Hanson, 45, immediately told her boyfriend what she had done. "I told him I'd Googled 'rent boy,' just in case I got whisked off to some Navy prison in the dead of night," she said.

Ms. Hanson's reaction arose from last week's reports that as part of its effort to uphold an online pornography law, the Justice Department had asked a federal judge to compel Google to turn over records on millions of its users' search queries. Google is resisting the request, but three of its competitors - Yahoo, MSN and America Online - have turned over similar information.

I understand the issue. I do. And I'm glad the fine folks at Google are thus far resisting turning over their records. If for no other reason than sticking it to "the man". But seriously, the people who have their panties in a bunch over this issue are delusional at best.

Aside from these salient and significant points made further into the aforementioned article:

Mr. Cohen said he doubted there would be much compromising of his individual privacy because the amount of data collected by the government was so voluminous. "My rationale tells me that with close to 300 million people in the U.S., and about 45 to 50 percent of households having Internet access, that I don't need to be too concerned with my search engine behavior," he said.

Susan P. Crawford, a professor at the Cardozo School of Law in New York, agreed that the sheer volume of information obtained by the government was likely to dilute privacy threats.

"More experienced Internet users would understand that in the mountain of search-related data available in response to a subpoena, it is very unlikely that anything referring to them personally would be revealed," Professor Crawford said.

I have to add my personal two cents to the discourse and take the position of someone rooted in reality.

What the fuck is it about you that's so special you think anyone from any government agency gives a shit what you do or where you go on-line? Honestly, the sheer arrogance is astounding. Assuming you're not downloading mountains of kiddie porn or trading nuclear warhead assembly secrets (I am so fucked on the next Justice Department search), I would say you can go on Googling "rent boy" to your heart's content. I know I plan to.

Running out of cash, and it's almost time to think about ... going back to work. THE HORROR! Shame on my parents for being lower middle class and shame on me for not marrying well when I was young and pretty.

Meanwhile, I have decided to sell my entire comic book collection. Before that can happen I need to catalogue everything I have, starting with what's here in New York. After I get that sold, I can move on to the really valuable goodies stored away in my parent's basement. It's a huge undertaking. I've spent the better part of the last two days on it and I'm not even half way done. Some of you die hard comic geeks will be horrified that I'm dispassionately selling it all. But it does tie in to my being HIV positive. If I don't sell it now, then when? I'm sitting on a collection which could be worth quite a bit of money. I have absolutely no plans to pass it on to anyone so when do I get the benefits? I could wait another 20 years and, I assume, make even more but I'll be in my 60's by then. I'm also assuming I'll be around in my 60's but there's no guarantee about that, either. It's the answer to a question I've been asking myself often these past few months. What are you waiting for?

I had been thinking about it for a while, but it took a few weeks for me to clear some space in my melon to decide what direction I wanted to move in. I finally decided, and with some help from the fine folks over at Yahoo 360, I'm proud to present my newest addition to the already cluttered cacaphony. Boys and girls, have a look at THE OTHER HALF.

I didn't want to send you over until there was some content for you to look at. So there's a link to my Flikr page, which is a duplicate of the one found here. Which means I may change the photo hosting here or add an "adult" password protected section. The new site also features LAUNCHcast, one of Yahoo music's new services. You can listen to your own selections or crack open my music station. I've been rating music on the site for two weeks now, and I find myself enjoying more and more what it's been spitting out. The only drawback, I found that the service doesn't work too well in a Mozilla browser. I'm sure it's just a pop-up blocker issue I'm too lazy to fix right now, but you've been warned.

Of course, my home page is there also, along with my actual name, age and city. I don't have a photo of myself beyond what's on the Flickr page. I have yet to take a headshot in the last 10 years I've enjoyed, so you'll have to settle for my smart-ass avatar. But this should make it easier if you were considering stalking me.

So here's the deal. There may be some cross posting but in one direction only. Things that appear on The Other Half may make their way here to From The Ashes. But the reverse will probably never happen. As I said on my new page, I won't be able to keep things completely clean there, my sense of humor is too "out-there" for that. But I wan't to use the page to keep in touch with friends, make some new ones, and have a place for my family to look in on. So please, feel free to add yourself to my friends link if you like, or e-mail me using the link here and I'll be happy to do it for you.

Now when I was originally invited to participate in the Yahho 360 test it was in Beta. It still has a Beta label but I've noticed that my page now comes with an invite to try it out yourself. I've found it a little buggy, but they've been adding features and fixing bugs for a couple of weeks now. It's at the point where I'm comfortable recommending you might want to get your own.

As long as I'm geeking out, I'd like to recommend another worthwhile download. If you follow this link to Google Labs you can click on the link to personalize your home page. Basically, after you set Google as your home page you follow these instructions to add (if you're me) links to the New York Times, local weather, movie reviews, CNet and Slashdot. It's totally customizable according to your interests and it's got that clean, uncluttered Google background I'm so fond of. Give it a try.

Woke up yesterday afternoon. The Hellcat roused himself about an hour later. His idea for a late afternoon movie sounded appealing. I nixed Syriana and Munich. So not me. I don't generally go to movies to think too much. We compromised on Capote. The actual person died in 1984 so I most definitely remember him as a guest on various talk shows. I remember him being particularly entertaining as a Tonight Show guest. The movie touches on what a great storyteller Capote actually was. So after a badly timed last minute telephone talk with my unemployment case manager (by the way, I sooo screwed myself on that front. It may be weeks before I get any unemployment coverage, if at all) we high-tailed it down to the legendary Angelika theater. The Hellcat was packing a couple of discount tickets that "they" give to people that have THE AIDS. We got in for 5 bucks each. My disease is so much better than yours.

We arrived too late for the previews. but just in time as the movie was beginning as we found our seats. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect since I try to avoid seeing/reading anything about a movie I'm interested in. I knew that the movie covered the time when Capote was researching/writing In Cold Blood, but having never read the book, I didn't even know much about the original case. I expected to enjoy the film, if for no other reason than my being a fan of Philip Seymour Hoffman. I first came to know his work when I saw him in Boogie Nights and I have to say, so far I haven't seen him give a performance that wasn't riveting. If you haven't had a chance, get a copy of Flawless. Like I said, brilliant. So I guess it's no surprise that I loved Capote. Hoffman was superb. His characterization of Capote wasn't so much an imitation as the essence of the man. What struck me most was how they captured the way in which he would tell you the most intensely personal story about himself, for no other reason than the fact that his subject would feel compelled to reciprocate. He was brilliant, but not above resorting to manipulation, lying, even outright bribery to get what he wanted. And yet, so multifaceted was Hoffman's performance that you never disliked him for it.

On a slightly unrelated aside, shortly after the film began a sweeping panorama of the Kansas farmland was on screen. Soon we heard the sound of a train in the distance. Naturally, I expected a train to come rolling across the screen. It wasn't until the train got noticeably louder without appearing that I doped out we were really hearing the New York Subway. I had forgotten how close to a major subway tunnel the Angelika's basement theaters were. We must have heard a dozen trains go by during the movie. You got used to it.

After the film The Hellcat and I met up with his boyfriend for an early dinner. Linguini bolognese, thanks for asking. Plus a couple of cocktails. True to the character and the time, Capote was seemingly never without a drink, It left me with a serious alcohol jones. Usually two drinks will at least get me feeling tipsy but I wasn't even slightly. We checked out the new club they've both been working at. The Hellcat has been coat checking on the weekends (read: getting drunk and having group sex after hours) and the boyfriend has been doing, well, whatever it is he does for a living (plus having group sex after hours). Have I mentioned I have no desire to get back in the bar business? I couldn't be more over that whole scene.

So dinner finished and club tour complete The Hellcat and I made our way back uptown. We were headed for Martha's as The Hellcat wanted some thermals but we ended up at the relocated Canal Jean Company. I used to make it a regular stop when it was even further south but sort of lost track when it moved locations. While I've outgrown some of their fashions and I found them woefully deficient in the funky underwear dept. I could still see myself putting together a cute outfit from what they did have. Besides, I rarely wear underwear. The Hellcat managed to find a black thermal and a hoodie he liked. I resisted. I'm actually quite content with the current contents of my closet. Very unusual for me. I don't even need to shoe shop right now. In any case, after a stop for provisions we finally made it home. My intent was to complete some writing for one of two projects I'm working on (more on that very, very soon) but of course, once I check my e-mail, and stop by Craigslist (for a minute) and read some blogs two hours have gone by and hey, isn't there a Will & Grace re-run starting? (sigh) Next thing you know I'm fixing a cocktail meaning all work is done for the day.

On this particular night, The Hellcat and the boyfriend were going to make the scene at Stache, the party that's been going on at Beauty Bar. They invited me along. I think I shocked them when I said yes, but they were stuck with me. What the hell, it was only four blocks away, if it sucked or I got sick of the two of them playing grab-ass I'd be home in a jiff. Turns out it was a pretty cool party. A nice mix of dykes and fags plus a dash of whatev's. The bartenders, mostly girls, were totally nice and speedy, the music was really great and the DJ's were both stupid cute ! It was really hot in the back bar and I was standing near the bathroom line when he walked by in next to nothing. I sniffed him for boy funk, alas I didn't get some. Yep, I'm dirty and middle aged like that. I also spied her and her. I watched some little dyke totally giving baby homo realness. (S)he was hot. We ended up hanging until almost 4 am which I haven't done in a while, as well as a couple of shots of Cuervo. I came home and fell asleep within 1/2 hour.

That was my Thursday.

So yesterday I was cruising for cock on Craigslist. I ended up having a horrible experience with a couple of silly Chelsea fags that resulted in an awful kick in the ego for me. Thank god I'm already in therapy. I'd explain further but I come off looking lame and I don't feel like being that exposed. I ended up sucking off some uncut Peurto Rican guy literally half a block away from me. Everything you need is already in your own backyard, Dorothy.

Anyhoo, during my on-line travels I stumbled across a post from someone offering sexual favors in return for some assistance with a clunky old computer. I freely admit I answered the call partly because he was offering up some cock in exchange for help. But I also was up for the challenge of trying to fix someone's PC who was admittedly a hack. I e-mailed him offering up my services. As well as my "services". He replied with a phone number. I figured what the hell and gave him a call.

He turned out to be a pretty nice guy with a shitty old computer that was still using dial-up (the horror!) and while he wasn't PC illiterate, he definitely needed to be talked through getting himself back online. The cool part of this story is he had already spoken to several friends and even spent some time getting help from "professionals" both on the phone with Dell and online. Turns out he spent all day trying out their repair advice and nothing they suggested was working. Hence the Craigslist cry for help. To make a short story more condensed, after a series of phone calls I was able to talk him through getting his system up and running. He graciously offered to make good on his offer to serve me up some cock. I opted to 86 the blow job and bask in the satisfaction of a job well done. Still, it highlites an idea I have for a business opportunity. More on that later.

The Ex is sick with a lingering cold. He's on a couple of weeks of antibiotics but he's been coughing all night as I type this, and I don't think he's sleeping well. The Hellcat had a tooth pulled today and is looking to have another one yanked tomorrow. Further fallout from his meth years. It's been cereal and soft sandwiches all day. As for me, all the workouts and weight training continue. The result? Not sure how good I'm looking but I am one sore old lady.

I've remembered my cell and the car keys. What am I forgetting?

So yesterday The Hellcat and I put a traveling outfit on the dog and brought him down to the Petco at Union Square. Our mission: To meet The Dog Whisperer. I have no idea why I'm fascinated by this show but I do love it. In any case, the line wasn't too bad. About 40 minutes, and full of dog people eager to talk about, well, their dogs. We only got to say hello and get an autograph and snap a picture. But it did get me out of the house. In keeping with that theme, tonight I'm planning to attend a house party with The Ex and some others, followed by some bar hopping in the East Village. Should be interesting.

So I intended to raid the cookie jar tonight and go out for a cocktail or ten. Of course, here I find myself at 1:30 am watching the positively heinous re-make of Cheaper By The Dozen. I can't seem to get the enthusiasm up to make "the scene". Not that anything's horribly wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. I had a pretty uneventful afternoon followed by a very aggressive work-out. My titties are huge! Just kidding. I am trying to live on the cheap and I've been stretching $300 out since just before Christmas. I still have about 50 bucks left. I've applied for unemployment, intending to take some time off before I re-group and find a new job. Unfortunately, there has been some sort of delay. My unemployment payments are "pending". Four weeks late. Should make for a helluva first check once it finally comes. I have "plenty" of money for now so no worries. Finally, my ability to live the life of a pauper has an up-side.

I've been meaning to tell you about some unexpected side effects of going on the HIV meds. Aside from the bad parts, where my brains briefly scrambled and I thought I might not ever get off the toilet, some unexpectedly good things happened. Long time readers of this blog will remember my lamenting how utterly and extremely gassy I had become. I'd link to it but I'm way too lazy. Trust, it was epic. Seriously. As in, no man would ever have me gassy. I un-ashamedly discussed it with two different nutritionists, so distressed was I by the thunderous and unrelenting levels of gas I was manifesting. Curiously, now that my viral load is almost under control the unrelenting and unimaginable level of gas I was manufacturing has dissipated like so much, well, gas. Do I know for a fact that the extreme farting was caused by the HIV? All I know is two full years (at least) of unstoppable farting has stopped. You tell me.

In addition, a series of dental visits confirmed what I already knew. My gums were seriously fucked. Not that my oral hygiene wasn't good. While I've never been much of a flosser I brush two, three or more times a day. But the last few years every time I brushed my teeth I bled. Sometimes a bit, sometimes rivers of blood would pour from my gums. It got so bad I would leave flecks of blood on a banana when I ate. The dentist I was seeing recommended a procedure where they lift your gums up and scrape out the gunk underneath and then re-attach your gums. The dental-phobe in me was horrified. But I had begun to mentally prepare for the procedure. Curiously again, I noticed about two weeks ago that the bleeding has stopped. I can and have really scrubbed at my brushing, just to see what would happen. Nothing, Not even a bit of pink. It's been that way for a few weeks now. Do I know for a fact that my viral load was causing an infection in my gums? No. But I know for sure that since bringing my viral load under control, the daily bleeding from my gums has stopped. You tell me.

Since I'm confessing all my unattractive flaws anyway, (but doing it in the name of science) the last thing I want to tell about is athlete's foot. I've had it off and on for years. Way before my seroconversion. I love that word, it sounds like I've joined a church. I know that athlete's foot is caused by a fungus, and I seemed like a pretty accommodating host. I would catch it pretty easily, as I never bothered with that gym/sandal nonsense. It wasn't until I went on the multi-vitamin extra C regimen from when I was first diagnosed that I noticed that the condition had cleared. And it hasn't come back in a couple of years. So I conclude that either the fungus was able to thrive because of a vitamin deficiency in me, or athlete's foot and HIV don't mix. I suspect it's the former but if it turns out the latter is the case, I don't recommend the cure.

These are strictly my own experiences and are based on cause and effect. Anyone else have some unexpected results? I'd love to hear.

D**,

I'm going to be sending in the renewal for the lease on the apartment either this week or next. I'm not sure if the landlord will agree to it, but I need to know if you would like me to try to have your name added to the lease. I don't want to commit my name to an entire year. This way, you could keep the apartment should I decide to move out.

Tom

Update

The joke's on me, he doesn't give a shit:

Yes I would love that. I don't think that would be much of a problem since the landlord knows I've been there for six years. About the deposit, I'll have what ever share you would need from me next week too. Talk to you more when I get home, new Smallville on tonight :)

D**

You: Founder of the Connecticut Fisters Network

Date: 12/2005 Type: 4 Hours Rate: yes
Rating: Recommended Hire Again? Yes Match Description? Yes Lived up? Yes
Reviewed Before: Yes
Where Found? Other Which: Recomendation from Porn Producer

Experience: Will was the special guest lecturer/performer at Connecticut Fisters Handball University Play Party. He demonstrated his handball prowess on several eager bottoms who were very sated by the time he was through,

He was everything that we expected and much, much more! He is a skilled versatile fister. Will is a HOT, handsome man, sensitive and intelligent, and speaking for myself and all that attended the event, there is no one who could have done better!

If Will treats all his clients in the same kind, efficient, friendly and professional manner that he treated us, I'm sure that he is one of the, if not the BEST in the business! He was easy to contact, prompt, reasonably priced, and just absolutely the BEST!

ALSO -

hi iam a black crossdress cocksucker that need the hot cum to blow big yummy cum bubbles like the pornstars and then swallow all the sticky yummy cum like a slut. i am 6'2" 180 with a tight ghetto booty because my old white daddy said black sluts need to use they assets and have tight bodies because then the cocks get harder faster and then you can get all the hot yummy cum faster. daddy makes me dress pretty too because he said that also gets the cocks hard. black colored sluts are here to work the cocks or they are worthless and dumber than those jap sluts that get to have bukkake and all the hot yummy cum to cover they face and fill they mouth. please make me a bukkake girl please.

Gene Shalit's uber-gay son leaps to his Dad's defense. I admit, I spied the review of Broke-fucking-back Mountain with raised eyebrows. But after re-reading it I just wasn't seeing the blatant homophobia others claimed. It seemed to me the man was being villified simply for having an unpopular opinion. One that our Gay Overloads deemed unacceptable.

The full text of Peter Shalit's letter to GLAAD follows: -via The Advocate

Dear Damon, and Neil,

Peter Shalit here—Gene Shalit's son. I have been a member-supporter of GLAAD for years. I assume you were not aware of that, but I am disappointed that you did not do a little background research on my dad, or try to contact me, or attempt to reach my dad through me, before issuing your press release this past week calling him homophobic because of his review of Brokeback Mountain. I did notice the "editor's note" which mentioned that he has a gay son, i.e. myself.

By way of background, I am a gay man, a physician, serving a mostly gay patient population in Seattle, and author of Living Well, the Gay Men's Essential Health Guide, which is a guide to gay health for gay men. I frequently comment to people that I can't imagine having another job that would immerse me in the gay community as much as the one I have. The gay community is my life.

I say this because it's important background for understanding that my dad has always been completely loving and supportive of me, my life, my partners, and my choices. He wrote a piece about me in 1997 for The Advocate (currently posted on their home page)—and agreed to have his picture on the cover of the magazine—because what the piece says is true about how he feels and how he has always acted.

I spoke with my dad yesterday about the issues with his review. He had no idea that his review of a movie, and his reaction to a particular character, would be seen as homophobia. Of course he is not homophobic. Actually the truth is the opposite. Agreed, he didn't particularly seem to like Brokeback Mountain, and he found the character of Jack unsympathetic. But his negative response to a particular character is not "defamation" and had nothing to do with the sexual orientation of the character. The interpretation-generalization of this as "homophobic" is unfortunate and incorrect. It is precisely because my Dad is not homophobic that he felt free to criticize the movie as he saw it, and not anticipate that he would be accused of homophobia for doing so.

(Incidentally, I loved the movie—and it sure isn't the first time I have disagreed with my dad about one of his reviews. I was sorry he didn't like it, but hey, these things happen. I have always felt that he was entitled to his opinion and I leave it at that.)

When I first saw your press release a few days ago my reaction was "goodness, this is silly" and I decided to sit tight and hope it would blow over. But it hasn't, judging by the e-mails I have received from friends, and the buzz I have seen online. People are concerned about these accusations about my dad, and some bloggers are talking about him as if he is an enemy of gay people. I decided to contact you because there could have been better ways to handle this situation, and I am hurt by your mischaracterization of my father, a man who does not have a molecule of hate in his being. It does not speak well for GLAAD, and it is not helping our community.

We are all really on the same side—you, my Dad, me, my family, our community. The gay community has enough enemies that we should not be attacking or alienating those who, such as my Dad, are part of our family and are our true friends. We may disagree with his opinion of a movie and his interpretation of a particular character, but that is his job as a critic to give his opinion. He may have had an unpopular opinion of a movie that is important to the gay community, but he defamed no one, and he is not a homophobe. It is you who have defamed a good man, by falsely accusing him of a repellent form of bigotry. It is ironic and sad that an organization whose mission is to combat defamation has committed such an act itself, an act which amounts to character assassination with so little consideration of the repercussions.

I am happy to discuss this further with you by e-mail, or you can feel free to phone me...

Sincerely, Peter Shalit

ALSO-

I don't watch any TV shows religiously right now, but I have caught and enjoyed Desperate Houswives (sorry, I couldn't resist). Luckily, I was watching last night. I was delighted and admittedly shocked at how matter-of-fact and in-your-face they treated what could have been seen as an explosive storyline. Well done. For an absolute blow-by-implied-blow re-cap, hop on over to Queer Day Magazine. I'll just re-print pix of the pretty boys.

I recently purchased all three Lord of the Rings movies. I missed them in the theater and I had barely heard of the books as a youngster. Needless to say I hadn't read them. Inexplicably, I've attempted three times now to start watching them in order. I was fully prepared given the hoopla surrounding the films to have to force myself to quit watching at some point and break it up in installments of, say, at least three. All three attempts has sent me rushing headlong into the arms of Morpheus. At this point you only need to say the word "hobbit" and I feel my head getting droopy.

The new year is only a week old. I've made it to the gym three-and-a-half times so far. A very good start to my unspoken resolution to get back in top shape. The half workout? That was the day I went to the gym and got distracted ... um ... doing ... something and ended up just completing a 1/2 hour of cardio.

My doctor prescibed a new vitamin therapy as well as a daily protein supplement. Not that there was anything wrong with me or my diet but more, I suspect, simply that New York State has agreed to pay for it. Among many many other things my new vita-pack contains 750% USRDA of Vitamin C, 600% RDA Vitamin E and 150% RDA Vitamin E. My pee is now a most delightful and mildly startling color of bright canary yellow.

Did all my laundry.

Finished this book. Loved it, hated the ending.

Watched two movies. One of them being Marvin's Room. I'd forgotten what a great movie that is.

Paid the bills.

I did not, however...

Pick up my new printer.

Shower.

Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

So I haven't seen that much of The Ex lately. He was traveling quite a bit in December and then I was away for a week. Last night he came home from work and was tired and went straight to his room. I was on the couch with the dog, admittedly where I had been for hours. I started beating myself up for wasting the day away until I reminded myself that everyone does it from time to time. In any case, after a couple of hours he popped up and wandered out to the living room, apparently to see what I was watching on TV. I don't know why. But he was only wearing a pair of underwear. Homegirl has put on some weight! I'm not sayin she's ginormous but I would definitely say she got gut. Now I know I'm obsessed with my own body and I see fat where no fat actually be but damn girl, back away from the beer and bread! *Snicker*

I'm off to do a big load (tee hee) of laundry and pick up a new photo printer that mom and dad got me for Christmas.

Here's a picture of what will happen should The Gays get the right to marry:

Oh my god! Remind me to hit the gym during the day for a few weeks. I was ready for it and it was still surprising. Every year, all the people that have decided to lose 20 pounds (again) descend on gyms all across the country. You can easily pick them out because a) you've never seen them in the last year, and b) they always have brand new (matching) gym outfits. Literally. They have outfits. The result? The gym was packed during prime time. There were lines for everything. All the cardio machines had people waiting at least one deep. There was a line for the showers and the Sauna Queens were in a veritable frenzy. I swear, it was all I could do to jerk off with the hot man with the hairy chest. What? Ah well, it should only be a month or so before everyone's resolutions fall by the wayside and all the people that I've been working out with all last year will be left.

Speaking of resolutions, The New York Post is reporting that January is the busiest month in terms of call volume for divorce lawyers. Apparently, along with 20 pounds of thigh, some people are looking to lose 170 lbs of fathead.

Speaking of reporting, Time Magazine is reporting on an organization out of Los Angeles called InSPOTLA. They are offering free E-cards that can be mailed (anonymously if you wish) to whomever you choose on the chance you test HIV+ or contract another STD. "Hey guy on 12th St. with the enormous cock and horrible taste in bedding, good news! I got gonorrhea. Make a clinic appointment and have a great day!"

Speaking of HIV, The LA Times is reporting on a new trend that's popping up at various circuit events and baths across the country. "Taking a T" refers to the taking of tenofovir, a drug that may or may not prevent the transmission of HIV in people who have unprotected sex. Typically, the powers that be in San Francisco are opposed to studies testing the effectiveness of this practice. I remain undecided, but lean towards, hey, if it works ....

How did I celebrate this year? I dis-invited myself to a New Year's Eve party and instead stayed home. I left it to The Hellcat, his boyfriend, The Ex, his ex and assorted other people I didn't care to know or feign interest in. I avoided New Year's Rockin' Eve with Dick (Dawn of the Dead) Clark and switched off MTV's coverage of the festivities as well. I did get to a whole new level of X-Men 2, so the night wasn't a total wash out.

For a couple of days, I intended to attend. But something happened while I was visiting my family. A conversation I had with my father. He inadvertantly showed me something I didn't really want to see. To him, I'm sure it was a minor story. We were discussing character traits and how difficult it can be living with another person. Apparently, my need (desire, obsession, you pick) for an orderly house is another inherited trait. I saw lots of them during my visit in both my parents. He told me about how he would spend a few minutes on any given day cleaning up the kitchen. Part of that entailed wiping the bread crumbs and food from the kitchen counter. Only to have my mother come through less than five minutes later and leave a counter full of bread crumbs behind as she fixed herself a snack or some lunch. As if he didn't matter. Or wasn't there. Although I'm not sure that's how he felt about it. Now I'm projecting. What he did say was that after 50 years of marriage he had learned to put up with it. It was the way it was.

I totally understood him and slightly admired his "Zen" approach. I was also quite horrified. I may not have a clue how I want to live the next part of my life. But I know for absolute certainty I have no desire to clean the bread crumbs off the counter for the next 50 years. In other words, I don't want to live with these people anymore. I can't care for them and they obviously don't care for me. The difference now? I've given up trying. So I felt it would be hypocritical to spend the last night/first day of the new year sharing a dinner table and attending a party with them. I'd rather be alone. 'Cause I'd rather be alone. Everything that I can't stand about the both of them is magnified when we're all off and together. I didn't truly relax until everyone said goodnight for the night and left me alone with The X-Men and The Hellcat's dog.

On New Year's Day I more or less barricaded myself in my bedroom. I watched TV and read a book. Late in the afternoon I went to the gym. Did some cardio and about 20 minutes of weight training. I wanted to make at least one healthy choice for myself for the new year to start things off right. Today I'll make it a longer work out. Tomorrow, my search for a new life begins.

Here's some retardedly cool video. - via Trusty Sidekicks