December 28, 2006

The other day I stumbled onto what is evidently the perfect pickup line, completely by accident.

*Aaron and I have been talking, getting to know each other little by little. It’s a bit like two vultures/doves circling each other in the desert, coming a tiny bit closer with each pass.

It’s been an incredible study in self discipline for me, as I’ve discovered that Aaron gets a great deal of satisfaction out controlling the pace of my advance.
Then, of course, he gets to tease me for being so slow.

Aaron: “Oh, why don’t you come around more?”
Me: “But I do come around all the time. I must just be missing you every single time. What’s your work schedule?”
Aaron: “Umm, I work all the time. So how was your Christmas?”

He’s only been working there for two months and got promoted to manager. The last manager, Roberto, was promoted and got to name his successor. I met Roberto, and I think I know at least one reason why Aaron got promoted. I suspect there was an “arrangement” between Roberto and Aaron. I don’t mind, really. I wish I had my own “arrangement” with him.

The sociology of creative labor/management relations fascinates me.

When I told him that I had foreseen that he would be manager, he visibly preened. In turn, this caused the blood to rush to my head, making me blind and dizzy, causing me to stagger for a moment.

When the roaring left my ears, Aaron was prattling along, telling me that his birthday is New Years Day, and he’s planning the blowout of the century. However, he’s quite nervous about being stopped by the police. He’s just starting to feel like his life is coming back into order, and doesn’t want anything to ruin it now that he’s getting things back on track.

This is where it gets good. I thought I was making a little joke; just a throwaway line:

Me: “Well, if you need a friend to make bail for you, you can always call me.”

I thought it was a safe offer. I’ve done a lot of crazy things in the past, but in my entire life I’ve only had to call for bail once, for not paying a traffic ticket(FYI:In Houston, the traffic courts in all the neighboring towns are hooked up on the same computer system. A ticket in Humble shows up in Houston, and you can get busted). The concept of needing friends to make bail for me isn’t in the forefront of my mind. However, great minds do not always think alike.

Aaron: “Oh, that’s so sweet. Nobody’s ever said that to me before! What’s your number again?”

At least I had the presence of mind to give him the office number, and not my home phone.
This boy’s turning out to be an expensive a date.

On the other hand, if I did make his bail, the gratitude sex could be awesome.

Who would have thought that offering to make his bail would spark a romantic interest?

Is there a Blue Book of recommended values for this kind of thing?
Where my savings went…

Aaron modelling a wife beater, just for you…

Meeting Aaron in the garden.

A desperate Aaron, preparing to do something rash and silly with a toy gun.

A beefed up Aaron, getting ready for a “workout”.

Be loved,


*Names have been changed, so I that I can always swear later that it was another person whose name starts with an “A” and who worked at the same store, on whom I had a crush.



December 26, 2006

Happy Boxing Day!

The day after Christmas is Boxing Day, a legal holiday in most of the British world.
No one knows how it got it’s start. But it basically is about giving to those who have less than you.
Some people think it started when the Lord of the Manor would box up the leftovers from the big Christmas banquet to give the servants when they took their holiday, December 26. I guess the modern day parallel would be a nice Christmas bonus from our bosses. I got a Christmas card with a twenty dollar bill stuck inside. That puts me twenty dollars ahead of the game.
So here’s to a Happy Boxing Day for all!
You wouldn’t expect me to ignore the obvious tie in, would you?

These fellows are observing Boxing Day together.

A little alcohol seems to encourage the cameraderie which is appropriate to the spirit of Boxing Day.

For some reason, this shot stirs a pensive mood. Who is this mysterious young man, and other than putting his clothes on, what is he doing?

Be loved,


Thanks, Jeff


December 24, 2006

Image courtesy of A MOI

My prayer is that the coming year will bring fulfillment, joy and fruition to your deepest hopes and desires.

Feliz Navidad!


December 23, 2006

In Winter
I go to the top of the mountain,
Lying on the hood of my car, reaching out
To touch the stars an arms length away,
Shards of crystal embedded in black velvet.
Cold causes all things to become
Suddenly denser and more refined,
All objects more sharply defined,
In their stillness grown more weighty,
Their “isness” more evident.

Lying there immobile,
I surrender to the spirit of the cold,
A frigid lover entering the well of my soul.
And at the center of my being
I join his stillness in ecstatic union.

As the constellation of my inward parts
Joins in solemn dance the beings in the sky,
Their weightless dance of harmonious gentleness
As deep as velvet sky caressing the earth,
Echoes in my solitary figure clad in blankets,
Sparking warmth into my wintry heart.

Be loved,



December 22, 2006

Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
Gerard Manley Hopkins

Dappled things worthy of praise…

Be Loved,



December 21, 2006

This is in the nature of a public service announcement for every male, single or partnered, gay or straight, needy or simply curious.
I think almost every adult male has heard of the ancient practice, originating in Persia, of using melons for self gratification.
The basic technique is pretty simple. You take a melon, cut a hole in one end, and go to town. If your melon is large enough, you can have a threesome, sharing space in your melon with a buddy.
There’s a lot to be said for the practice. First, it’s a cheap date. A cantaloupe doesn’t care if you take it to dinner and a movie. Secondly, your melon friend won’t gossip about your performance to everyone at the bar. And, if you don’t feel like a return engagement, you can always go to the store and buy a new melon. It’s all right, melons aren’t troubled by feelings of rejection. There’s comparatively little drama in a relationship with a melon.
You will never have arguments with your melon date over who gets to do what. Your melon doesn’t care if it doesn’t get to top this time, or indeed, if it ever gets to top.
Everything considered, you could do much worse than dating a melon.
There’s just one thing to watch out for.
Now mind you, I’m not saying I tried this. I’m NOT saying that.
But if you do happen to try this, I recommend trying some sort of seedless melon, or at least one that doesn’t have sharp seeds. Especially Honeydews.
A Honeydew looks so inviting, so soft and round. It teases you, wordlessly promising a troublefree good time.
But once you’re in, it will turn on you. Honeydew seeds are sharp as needles.
These are all photos of Francis. His body is a study in light….

Be loved,



December 20, 2006

Elizabeth of Screw Bronze tagged me for this.
I like knowing that I have at least three or four female readers who are able to set aside the “Ewww!” factor and check in on me from time to time. I’m learning to like females, just not sexually.

For most of my life, a sure fire way to make me uncomfortable was to say something along the lines of “Tell me about yourself”. I discovered pretty quickly that if I spoke truthfully of myself and my life I would be corrected and told that I should say this or that ritualized response. “Oh, don’t say that!”, or “You should say you’re great!”. My response was(and still is) usually along the lines of “Where the Sun don’t shine!”. I might say it a little more politely, but as they say, it’s the thought that counts.
It took me a long time to learn that in most social situations people don’t want to know, they want to be amused.
I loved the link in yesterday’s post precisely because of all the screw ups, this funny looking guy sitting on my sofa in his skid marked underwear, who can’t really sing on his best day.
Life’s like that.
I remember when as a child asking to go to the neighbors house, my grandmother would invariably ask if my underwear was clean. Even then I knew she was fighting a losing battle.
Life has skid marks. There’s really no getting away from it.
I know I haven’t figured life out yet. Anybody who says they have is selling something. We’re all just making it up as we go along.
Here we go:

1. Telephones scare me. I’ve been known to let my mother’s call go to the answering machine. I have only one friend I’ll pick up for every time. I prefer instant messaging to the telephone. I prefer face to face over the telephone as well. A year and a half ago I spent ten very frustrating weeks with a therapist. Eight weeks we met in his space, then we switched to phone sessions. It only took two weeks to grind to a miserable halt.
It causes real problems, though, when it comes to phone sex.
I think part of the problem is that I rely heavily on visual cues; facial expressions and body language are really important to me. I can get quite frustrated if I feel that I’m not being understood. I’m much more confident of being understood in written form than I am of being verbally understood. However, put me up in front of a crowd, and I’m set free. I love public speaking. I just regard it as performance art, and have fun with it. I can detect and direct the emotional flow of a crowd much better than with an individual.

2. I tend to wear the same outfit every day, for months on end. I always have two or three identical pairs of pants, usually Dockers. That way I can always be fresh, but still look the same. I allow for a little more variety with shirts, but not much. I’ll have three or four different shirts that I alternate between. I have several pair of shoes, but I invariably choose my “dressy” black hightops. I have twelve pair of identical socks. My everyday choice of drawers is fruit of the loom, but for special occasions I’ll introduce variety down there. I think I just enjoy not having to choose what I wear.

3. I learned to read freakishly early. I was reading on my own when I was three. My first book that was “my very own” was Mickey Mouse Builds a House. When I was six I was reading Russian novels(in translation) out loud to my grandfather. Most of my vocabulary came from reading. This caused some problems, because I would figure words out from reading them, but until I heard someone say the word, I would just guess at it. I thought “idiot” was pronounced “I diet” for years. I learned the word as it appeared on the page before I learned how it sounded.

4. I’m almost entirely internally compliant. I’m not particularly rebellious, but I’m only swayed by my own values. Some well meaning but very misguided people have from time to time tried to force me to conform to their notions. Those efforts have never met with success, as I will go to any lengths to resist the attempt. I’m simply not capable of allowing someone to think or feel for me. I’m just not very suggestible.

5. My favorite place to be in the whole world is on top of a mountain in the middle of an electrical storm. I was camping on a mountain, not paying attention to weather reports, and a friend and I got caught by a storm. I had never seen ball lightning before, but it’s awesome.

6. I taught myself how to write backward cursively, so that it looks correct when you hold the writing up to a mirror, after I learned that Leonardo Da Vinci wrote like that in his personal diaries.
Fun on the lighter side…

These two are clowning around I think, although the fellow sitting down looks like he’s done this before…

Younger brother plays the clown, but make no mistake, big brother is there to watch out for him. Just look in his eyes.

Just a boy and his dog.

Be loved,



December 19, 2006

Singing his life out for me, just for the joy of it. Actually it’s more likely that I’m the guy with the guitar singing out loud and long and completely off pitch, just for the joy of finding another human being who will pause for a moment and listen.
Click here. You won’t regret it, I promise.

“Closer To Fine”

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it’s only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I’m crawling on your shore.

Chorus,I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free.


I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
I went in seeking clarity.


We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I really relate to the guy on the linked page, sitting there in his underwear, trying to sing this song, and never quite getting it right. But he’s determined to keep trying, and he’s got this apparently endless faith that the person who fell into his clutches really wants to know what’s in his heart and mind. That faith keeps me rooting for him.
I’m advertising for room mates with guitars…

Be loved,


P.S. Tomorrow the Six Weird Things About Me meme. I was tagged Sunday for it, but it’s taking me a few days to narrow it down to six.


December 18, 2006

from The Miracle of the Rose-
But now I am afraid. The signs pursue me and I pursue them patiently. They are bent on destroying me. Didn’t I see, on my way to court, seven sailors on the terrace of a cafe, questioning the stars through seven mugs of light beer as they sat around a table that perhaps turned; then, a messenger boy on a bicycle who was carrying a message from god to god, holding between his teeth, by the metal handle, a round, lighted lantern, the flame of which, as it reddened his face, also heated it? So pure a marvel that he was unaware of being a marvel. Circles and globes haunt me: oranges, Japanese billiard balls, Venetian lanterns, jugglers’ hoops, the round ball of the goalkeeper who wears a jersey. I shall have to establish, to regulate, a whole internal astronomy.
Jean Genet

Jean Genet, born in 1910 somewhere in France, bounced around from foster home to foster home as a child. Accused of thievery, he adopted thievery as a way of life, for which he was sent to what once was laughably called “Reform School”, where impressionable young men and a few young women) were torn apart and re-formed into permanent outsiders incapable of living in the rutted paths of social convention marked out for them by the mob entity known as society, which is nothing but a condition of mass hypnotism which we have been trained since early childhood to accept as “reality”. After leaving reform school, he embarked upon a career as a petty thief and hustler, only later finding himself as a writer.
Most who see the lie of “normal” or “real” life flounder, not having the strength or independence of mind to realize the task that lies on the other side of that realization: to wit, the creation of a new reality for oneself that is more consonant with ones own nature.
You see, each of us has at least two lives; the one we are given, and the one we create. Perhaps Fassbinder was right:All of life really is a movie.
The life we create has more to do with who we are than with outer circumstances, which are often beyond our control.
Genet wrote several novels, a memoir, and several plays. He only directed one film, Chant D’Amour, in 1950. Twentyfive minutes long, it’s entirely silent. It focuses on the love of an older Algerian prison inmate for his young friend in the adjoining cell. A sadistic guard humiliates and abuses the prisoner, who rises above the degradation to a place where he and his friend are free together.

Go here to see the film.

It’s also available here.
The French contribution to civilization…

Be loved,


The photos are courtesy of the great Moutarde, creative force behind BO??.


December 16, 2006

Today I browsed the website of the American Family Association, headed up by the well known loony of the far right fringe, the Most Right Reverend Donald Wildmon. While there, I found some fascinating things.
AFA is raising the alarm that Sears is supporting the fledging LOGO network. There are several companies participating in the ad campaign, but evidently Wildmon senses that Sears is the weak link in the chain.

Sears has thrown its support to the LOGO network. LOGO is the 24-hour cable television network dedicated to programming for lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders according to a homosexual advertising website. It is carried on many cable systems around the country. Many of you have been forced to accept it as part of your cable package. Sears is now helping to make it mainstream!

Sear’s advertising will help LOGO air shows like “Sex 2K Drag Kings,” “The Gayest and Greatest of 2006,” and “Transgeneration.”

Sears advertising (two-minute infomercials) will go to help the fledging network get on firm financial ground. Sears advertising is financing LOGO’s push to legalize homosexual marriage in addition to promoting the homosexual lifestyle.

Click Here to Send Your Email to Sears Now!

And of course, the article ends with a request for money:

If you think our efforts are worthy, would you please support us with a small gift? Thank you for caring enough to get involved.


Donald E. Wildmon, Founder and Chairman
American Family Association

P.S. Please print this and share with others.

I think it would be a great idea to follow this link to the article, and use their form to e mail Sears, thanking them for their support of the Logo network.

If you don’t want to go to their site, you can cut and paste this address:

The contact person is:
Aylwin B. Lewis

There’s also a great site run by the Commercial Closet Association
that has information about companies that advertise with gay themes.
And now on to something sane…
These photos are shown courtesy of funkypunk. These evocative pictures are the result of some very simply overlay techniques done very tastefully, using PhotoShop. I love the ivory skin tones. I want to follow his work as he develops.

Be loved,