A (un)Holiday update

Bunoa sera, tutti! It's Sunday night, I'm home alone (naturally), nursing a headache from hell, and watching "The Last Samurai". Damn I love that movie!

So, where do I begin? Since I last posted I had a blind date set up. It was on a Thursday night. So, I went to the usual watering hole, got some dinner, had a couple of drinks, flirted with Kyle, talked with Jeff... Y'know, the usual stuff. At the appointed time, I left and made my way up the street to the Coffee Table. I got a small mocha, chose a table near the front, and drank my coffee for about 1/2 an hour. When the place closed and he didn't show up, I headed back down to the Union Station.

After another drink, I saw this guy come in that I have noticed before but have never had the balls to talk to. Yeah, he's THAT handsome. Dark hair, dark eyes with a hint of innocence, pale skin... Damn. Anyway, when this str8 chick stole his chair when he went to the bathroom. The bitch even had the nerve to move his drinks out of the way and was about to move his coat when he came back. I offered him a seat next to me, but he refused (initially) on the principle of the matter. Then the bitch said something like "how rude" and left. It was even ruder of her. Str8 chick in a gay bar stealing a hottie's seat.

Anyway, after bitchhilda left, he started talking to me, so I moved down a seat and talked to him for a while. He has a nice, deep, rich voice. Damn, I think I'm getting another crush.

Anyway, earlier tonight I spoke with the guy who stood me up. It appears he just missed me. He had gone to see the "Nutcracker" and it last longer than he thought (he forgot to factor in intermission) and then he had trouble find a place to park. There are so few places to park in the Short North. Anyhoo, all is cool and we might do something next weekend.

Let's see. I don't celebrate Christmas, but I sorta kinda got a gift last night. We made out for about an hour or so, both of us hot and sweaty at the end. He had a nice southern accent and big... Well, anyway, you get the picture.

I've been working out for the past month or so, but for some reason haven't started to lose any weight yet. When I did this last spring I started to lose weight fairly quickly. I wonder if I'm not building up muscle as fast as I am losing fat. After all, muscle weighs more than fat, and I am starting to at least look a little more toned. It could be why I'm starting to get second looks from guys that wouldn't look twice before. After all, studly from last night was (almost) a muscle boy.

Well, enough about my sexcapades. I am driving down to me da's place domani and need to seriously get rid of this headache so that I can get some sleep. I took something earlier, but that didn't work too well. I'll try another dose and see if that doesn't help some.

"The Last Samurai" is about to wrap up. It's at the point we're the samurai are about to attack the "modern" Japanese army. Something about the samurai and bushido seems to appeal to me greatly. Maybe because the honor and discipline and loyalty they had no longer exists in such a pure form. Maybe I'm just stuck up on the novel idea. Whatever it is, this movie seems to fill a void, however temporarily. This one and "The Sum of All Fears". Hell, maybe it's just the musical score.

Allora, I must run, kittens. The second dose of medicine seems to be kicking in. Can we say "wheeeeee"?

Remember, tutti, "all of life in every breath".

A domani!

Weekends suck

I know that somedays it just doesn't pay to get out of bed, but I have to if I want to eat. This weekend I haven't left the house once. Well, I did go out once, but it was to dump the trash and get the mail. I'm still really tired, tho. Could it be because I have been sitting on the couch all day? I should be cleaning the apartment, but...

Anyhoo. I love winter, the cold, the snow. I've been raving about it to everyone. Today, tho, the snow is starting to get on my nerves. All the glare from the non-existant sun is seriously starting to hurt my eyes. I'd wear my cool dude shades, but that looks kinda weird when I am sitting in my living room. Then again, I am by myself (still) and I'm sure the cats aren't going to tell anyone.

I didn't go to Axis last Friday like I planned. Too much playing and still hungover from Thursday night. Lemme tell ya, dieting and alcohol do NOT mix. I swear that I didn't drink any more than usual, but I felt like I was plastered to the floor. Good think I didn't go home. Really, driving would have been a serious issue.

Not exactly sure what I did that night, but I woke up with a phone number and the name "David" at the top. Hmmm. I know that it's not my number. Wonder if I should call and find out who I did, er, who it is? I do remember something about an hour long bj. Hehehe. Drunk dick is never good for sex of any kind.

Well, I must think about getting ready to go out tonight. I haven't been to Showtunes night at the Union Station in a looong time. Well, maybe in a couple of weeks. Still, what else is a guy to do on a boring Sunday night? Well, I can think of a few things, but they're no fun to do alone! :)

So, if anyone is bored and are going out tonight, stop by the Union Station and say howdy. I'll be the guy at the bar in the black leather jacket. Well, I'll be one of the guys at the bar in a black leather jacket. HEHEHE. Just yell for bagelbuoy and I'll wave. I won't be there until about 7 or so, so don't start yelling until then.

Oh, one last thing. If anyone out there knows of a cute gwm, single, from 25 to 40, who is looking for a bf, please point him in my direction. I'm getting sick of being all alone. Hanging out with Sister Helene, while fun, is not getting me anyone.

Oooh, snowflakes!

Well, belli, I must run. Gonna get something to nosh on, get all hot and soapy in the shower (alone), and then look at the closet to determine what I'll look the best in.

XOXOXOXO to all!

GRE Funk

Can I say UGH? I took the GRE today whilst I was sick and didna do as well as I should. Got a 580 (or 560, can't remember) on my verbal and a 530 on my quantative (math). The verbal is lower than it should be for grad school, but I don't know. Should I take the GRE again next month, hope for the best, or inquire with the grad school admissions board? Well, whatever I decide to do at least I graduated! WOOHOO!!!

So, what have I been doing for the past few weeks? Well, I've been turning into a fitness freak. Got a membership to this place that has a gym, amongst other things, and decided to take advantage of it. I figure I have about 6 months to seriously lose weight, tone up, and make myself look like I was 23 again. With grey hair and age lines, of course. But at least I'll have a smokin' hot bod!

The place I mentioned also a sauna, steam room, and hot tub. Ahhh. Been a long time since I pampered myself in such a loverly manner. Nothing like a long, hard workout followed by a hot soak. 'Course, the chlorine smell from the tub gets annoying after a while, but I can survive.

Met this nice studly named Alexander. He's a stripper (a good one) that I met at the Columbus Eagle Monday. He felt sorry for me because I was there by my lonesome. He told me to come to Axis on Friday because he is dancing there for the Steam show. Plus, a hot porn star will be there to dance as well. So, being the slut that I am, I told him I would show up. Mebbe give him a good grope (or two or three).

Hmmm, what else? Well, I've been meeting a lot of new people lately, but don't ask for names. I have been getting them, but there were so many I've forgotten a lot of them. Yes, Mother Laura and Sister Helene, I've been safe.

Still no news on the boyfriend front. I've been talking to a lot of people and looking in all the wrong places (like a good boy), but one person said I dress like a str8 boy and another said my body language is scary. Huh? My gay(er) friends laugh when I tell them stuff like that. They say that all someone has to do is look at me to see I am gay and desperate. Oooops, to much detail. :)

Well, I'd better get to bed. Or at least give some thought to that. I have to send a email to make sure my friend James is still alive and kicking. I think my last email may have scared him a bit.

Oh, yeah, my brother is back from Iraq. I found out graduation Sunday. Seems that his company came back to Newark on Saturday but his bitch-wife decided to not tell anyone. SLUT SLUT SLUT SLUT SLUT! Of course, I blame him as well. He has to take some responsibility for his life, not let that bitch run it for him. Either way, mumsy and I have decided not to go visit unless he calls and invites us down OR comes up here to visit us (not that the bitch-wife is going to let him out of her sight that long). I decided that a long time ago, but me mum has finally come to her senses about it.

Well, enough bitching about Major Asshole and his bitch-wife.

Buona notte, tutti! XOXOXOXOXO

A Little Winter Cheer

Well, more like Winter insanity. Here is a video that I thought was hilarious. Just imagine that you live next to this guy during the Christmas Season. The video is in Windows Media format (.wmv), so you will at least need that to view it. Enjoy The Wizards of Winter!

Photography

OK, I know, getting bored with the essay type stuff. Trust me, so am I. This is the last one, for now. I'll get back to the bar hopping and whoring before long, something you all want to read about. After all, essay stuff is so BOR-ING.

Alas, no (older) pictures for this post. I'm sorry, everyone. I got the prints out, put them in the scanner, then hit the magic button. Niente. The thing is running, but no images are making it to the computer. Grrr. I tried rebooting, reloading the software, deleting and reloading the hardware profile. Still, niente. I finally noticed little kitty cat bite marks in the cord running from the scanner to the PC. BUTTHEAD!



Trust me, there isn't anything innocent about this cat. When something goes wrong, he's at the heart of it all. Anyway, back to the pictures. Since I can't give you actual images, I'll talk about the different types.

First was the daguerreotype, created by M. Daguerre. With the backing of the French government, he discovered how images could be captured using a very complex process. One exposure could take up to 20 minutes to create, and that was before the print was developed. Hmmm, print is probably not the best word for this type of picture. These pictures were created on a cardboard material that, once developed, were extremely fragile. There also was no way for more than one image to be created. Once the shot was done, that was the only image you could get out of it. This was the only process for a long time, then shortly after Daguerre's death, the paper negative was discovered. This new process allowed for multiple prints to be created using one negative.

One common usage of the paper negative, for a while, was the carte de visite. I have a ton of carte de visite. These are pictures that were taken to give out to guests when they came to visit. The prints were trimmed then glued to cardboard cards. They are similar to business cards of today, but much more personal. If I remember correctly, the carte de visite was made using a large negative and a special camera with multiple lenses. Each lens focused on a different plane and created multiple images on one negative (can't remember how many). Pretty effective. One shot and at least 3 prints.

A lot of pictures were taken in the studio. However, around the Civil War photographers set out to photograph the American West. This started a round of nature photography that hasn't gone away. One picture I have is extremely fragile. It is a shot of a woman standing next to a wooden fence with a deer nuzzling her outstretched hand. What makes the print unique is that there is still a lot of silver on the print. When it is held at an angle to the light the print takes on a bright sheen. It was recommended that I find some archival laminate and laminate the picture to protect it. Oh, and definitely keep it out of long light exposure.

This would have been quite a photo feast, if it hadn't been for the evil Butthead:



How could such a sweet looking cat be such trouble? Just look at the eyes, look deeply into the eyes. It's like staring into the abyss. Can you see the calculating, cunning mind behind those eyes? He is chaos barely maintained in a fur coat.

Damn holiday's!

Ok, I was looking over the past week and realized that, other than my essays, there have been no regular posts. Ooops. I blame the holidays, the end of the quarter drawing near, and impending graduation. With all that going on, as well as looking for the perfect boyfriend, blogging sorta slipped my mind. Ooops, again.

Ok, so now I need to include one weeks worth of fun in one post. Hmmm, what to talk about? Bar hopping? Whoring? Survival of the holidays? Ah, I know!

Me mum told me she would take me out to any restaurant I choose celebrate my graduating high school. Er, college. So I thought about it, checked around and decided on Rigsby's Kitchen. Yah, I know, it's a little pricey (30 - 50 dollars a person) but I hear it's a great place to eat. There is an ulterior motive, which I may have mentioned in a past post. If I did, I canna remember.

Well, let's see. I survived the holiday with minimal scarring. I figured there would be more, especially after last summer's fiasco, but, alas, I survived. What happened, you ask? Let's see, I went to Chicago last summer for a party at a friend's place. Just to make a long story short, I had a little too much to drink, decided I could walk backwards, talk, and drink at the same time, slipped, fell, and sliced open the back of my skull. Let's see, I ended up with 20+ stitches and an excruciating headache. It's only just recently that I could bend my head forward without feeling the scar tissue pull.

I found a new place to hang out. It's called the Columbus Eagle. My friend, Sister Helene, calls it a hole in the wall. Yet, that seems to be the whole reason I like it. It's never very crowded, but it does get busier as the night goes on. My favorite night in Moanday. There's a free movie at 9:30 pm, free popcorn, and no cover charge. Then, after the movie, there's some lite entertainment. So, now that's my new Moanday night hangout. Good thing there are no classes on Tuesday!

I still need to finish my grad school apps. Going to have to do that tonight. I told my professors that I would have the paperwork for letters of recommendation by Moanday. Guess what, that's tomorrow. GRRRR. I shoulda done it yesterday, but I was caught up trying to get my photography assignment done. Then it was dinner at mum's place. By the time I got home, I was too tired to do anything.

What else? For the first time in 6 months, I wasn't at my usual drinking hole on Thursday. Holiday's suck. Hope Kyle didn't miss me too much, if he even worked.

Well, time's a wastin' and I have one more post to go before I can do my thing.

Ci vediamo, ragazzi!

More family pictures

Last time we looked at some of my family pictures and discussed how pictures allowed us to see members of our family that we never would have had a chance to see. For instance, family members from over 100 years ago or our great grandparents when they were younger. They also allow us to see family members who we should have met, but died quite young.



This is a picture of my maternal grandmother. She died when my mother was less than a year old. Since we never met, I can only go on what others in my family had to say about her. Evidently, she and my mother shared a lot of the same characteristics. They even resemble each other. Enough so that when I saw the picture for the first time, I really thought it was my mother. It is the only picture of my grandmother that we have, which makes it that much more precious.

Like I said, I was young, so it never occurred to me that the age of the picture predated my mother's birth. If you know what you are looking for, you can tell the age of the picture by looking at the coloration. I'm going to have to check to be 100% accurate, but I don't think portrait studios had color negatives at that point or, if they did, there was a limited range of colors available. A lot of times, after the picture was taken, the photographer would "color" the picture using special inks. This gave the photograph the appearance of a painting, even when it isn't.

Then there is my Aunt Judy. She died when she was 18, about 3 years before I was born. Here are the pictures of her:


As a baby. Note: the photographer actually signed the picture in pencil.


At about 3 or 4, not sure which


Senior Picture

Of course, not to let my mother get away, here is a picture of her and Aunt Judy together:


Mom and Aunt Judy


Mom's senior picture

Alas, I shouldn't let myself escape from this picture fest. Most people will never know what I looked like when I graduated high school, so here is my senior picture, when I was young and beautiful and fifty pounds lighter (but we won't go there):




It's interesting to note that, had this been just over 150 years ago, none of this would have been possible. I would never have known what my grandmother and aunt looked like, nor would I have been able to see what my mother looked like when she graduated high school. Of course, you would never have known what a real studly I was (not!).

Of course, some pictures never existed. I had a twin brother who died in childbirth. There are no pictures of him; but, being an identical twin I never have to wonder what he would've looked like. All I have to do is look at a picture of myself, or look in a mirror, and I see him. Sometimes, if I look at a picture, I can imagine that it is him I am seeing and not me.

Once, just to see what it would look like, I took two images of myself and combined them into one picture using Paint Shop Pro. It's amazing how powerful pictures can be. At that one moment, more than any other, I missed having him around. Realized how different my life would've been if he had lived. It was such a powerful emotional surge that I couldn't bear to keep the picture and I deleted it. I have never attempted that again.

I imagine that my mother feels the same way when she looks at pictures of her own mother, my grandmother. How different her life would have been had she lived. How different would life have been for all of us if my Aunt Judy had lived. It is a lot easier to look at pictures of people you would never have known rather than pictures of people you should have known and never did.

Okay, enough of the emotional dribble. Next, we'll look and talk about some of the oldest pictures I have. I don't have any daguerreotypes, but I do have pictures that were created using the next generation of photography onward. They are still my family, but they cover a wide range from portrait studios with elaborate sets to carte de visite to and even 1 nature shot (if I can get it scanned correctly).

Family Pics revisited

Ooops, I was just told that I made a serious faux pas with the first picture, the family in Oregon. The bearded man is on the right, not the left. I guess I was thinking their left and not my left. Sorry for the confusion! Anyway, I tried to lighten the picture to make him more visible, but the software I use at home is from MicroCrap, so whaddya expect? If I could find my PaintShop Pro CD, I might have better luck.

I did have a couple questions regarding my great grandparents and why they weren't smiling in either portrait. According to this documentary I saw once upon a midnight dreary, to smile in the late 1800s early 1900s meant that you were up to no good. Smiling was usually seen on people who sold snake venom as medicine, and used car salemen today! Not smiling was a convention of the generation they lived in and not necessarily of portrait making. I have seen home pictures of them smiling: at Christmas, family get togethers, and other less formal events. Just never with portraits like what I've posted.

Family Pics 1

Pictures. We take them for granted, we see them all the time, and some of us are even amateur photographers. They surround us in our everyday lives but none of really stop and think how amazing they really are. Amazing in a way that few of us will ever get a chance to understand.

Why do I say that? Because, how many of you have pictures of family members from over 100 years ago? I'm sure that we have all seen pictures from 50 to 60 years ago when our grandparents started to collect pictures of family; but, have you ever found a really old picture (from 1867) and wondered who they were? What they might have been like? Are they really family???

I guess I am fortunate that I have in my possession such pictures. I remember looking at them when I was younger and wondering just those things. I'd grill my mother incessantly about them, learning the family history. Well, as much as she knew, anyway. Then I'd talk to my great aunt Edith, who, obviously, knew more than my mother.

Still, there are people whom I cannot figure out:



All this picture says is that it is the "family in Oregon". There is no date on the picture, but we guess it is somewhere around 1900. We're pretty sure that the bearded man on the left (who cannot be seen that well) is my great grandfather Stine's brother or uncle. No one is really sure which. Not even my Aunt Edie remembers that much about the family that moved to Oregon.

However, I do know who this lovely couple is:



This is my great grandmother and grandfather Stine on their wedding day. Oh, how the gene pool has thinned since then. They were married until their deaths in the 1960s, so the pic was probably taken just before 1900. Here is a picture taken of them in their final years:



Chances are I never would have met anyone in these pictures. Yet the prints allow me to see what they looked like and talking to others in my family tells me a little about what they were like in life. Poor substitute for the real thing, but I'll take what I can get.

Of course, there are those prints of people who I should have known and never did. We'll take a look at those in my next post.

Thursday has come and gone

Well, another Thursday has come and gone and, I'm sad to say, I have no new and exciting adventures to tell you. Kyle was working but he was training a new bartender, hopefully NOT his replacement, so I didn't get to harass him too much. Howie was working the other end of the bar, so he was too far away. I will mention that Howie is still in his summer attire. Fool! As cold as it was last night his nads must've pulled back up into his abdomen and he had to have a terrible case of shrinkage. Howie, darling, if you're too cold, come over here. I was WAY too warm last night.

The only other thing of consequence last night was the cute guy that was hitting on me. Guess he must've been drunk. Way too drunk if he was hitting on me. I probably would've flirted back if his breath didn't smell like he'd been eating ass all night. And nasty ass at that. I talked to him for a while, trying to stay upwind, and then he left. Maybe next time I see him his breath will be better.

I also saw one of my Nathan's again. He was looking good. Guess he finally got over his break up with his boyfriend. Jeff was there and I talked to him for a while. Then I left about 10:30 or so.

Why, do you ask? I know Kyle did: "Leaving already?"

Yeah, had to go with some friends to watch the new Harry Potter movie. It was the midnight showing, so I had a an hour to sober up. I won't mention much about the movie right now. Let's just say that it held true to the book. There were a few things missing, but nothing key to the plot. I think we're set up for the next movie, whenever it comes out.

Let's see. I got home at 4:00 am, got to sleep at 4:30, then overslept and got up at 1 in the pm. Ooops, so much for my photography class.

Well, must go. I have a statement of purpose to finish writing and a draft of a writing sample to get cracking on. I'm about 1/2 done with the writing sample, but I'm not sure if I can stretch out the paper much more. Guess I'll give it a shot.

Ciao tutti!

Toronto, to start

Well, I spoke with one of my profs about the University of Toronto. Evidently it is one of the best universities in North America for Medieval Lit. Of course, since it is the best it is also one of the hardest to get in to. Hmmm. Decided to wait for my PhD to try to get into there. By then, I'll have proved myself with my Masters degree and will be ready to tackle the big boys. (hehe)

What else? Well, I've applied to OSU, OU, and Notre Dame so far. I think I'm also going to try for Michigan State, Purdue, and Wright State. Wright State is my fall back school. Y'know, the one you know you can get in to, but is not your first, second, or third choice.

Let's see. This weekend is the big Michigan - OSU game. I'm "supposed" to go to the Union Station on Saturday with the guys to watch the game. I warned them that EVERY TIME I watch the Buckeyes play from there they LOSE. EVERY SINGLE TIME!!! Did they believe me? Of course not. So, if they lose, it's not my fault. Blame Ron.

Wait, didn't I already mention this in another blog entry?

Now what? Hmmm, tomorrow is Thursday! Time for more adventures in the big city. Hmmm, what kind of trouble can I get in to? I know a few things, but they may be too racy for a blog.

Of course, no adventures until I get my Statement of Purpose drafted. It "shouldn't" take all day, but I think it might. I don't know what to say about myself. Should I say I'm into Faeries? (Perverts, get your minds outta my gutter!) Get personal, but not too personal. Be informative, but don't give away too much. Less is more, but I need enough for two pages. CRAP.

Tutti, ho un male di testa. I'm going to take some aspirin, curl up under a blanket with that special no one (sigh), and watch the tele. Buona sera!

Oh, almost forgot. I got a comment from Benjamin Nicholas!!! Happy dance, happy dance! Just so I can cherish the comment even more, here it is:

Nice blog...

Always nice to see what others are enjoying about what you write :)

Thanks much for keeping an eye on 15 Minutes!


Benjamin Nicholas

Grad School Madness

Tutti, sorry it has been so long since I wrote anything. You are all probably what adventures I have been having. Guess what! NIENTE!!! I've been focusing on my GRE, getting grad school applications filled out, working on a writing sample, a statement of intent, and trying to remember why the hell I put my last resume. Not to mention maxing out by credit card trying to get all the fees paid for everything.

Did you know that some schools offer a discount if you get your application in before December 1? Notre Dame is $35 before December 1 and $50 after that date. SO, when you all get the itch for grad school, it pays to start as early as you can. Who knows what discounts you'll find.

You'll probably be interested to know that I spent all day Saturday, all night Monday, and will be spending all day today working on grad school materials. Not to mention that I need to start prepping for the GRE. I'm scheduled to take it on December 13, so that gives me "some" time. Grrr. This had SO better be worth it.

BTW- Does anyone have any feedback, good or bad, on the University of Toronto? I'm seriously considering applying there, but I don't want to screw myself over. I'll let someone else do that! ;P

Well, kittens, this stuff ain't gettin' done on it's own. Wish it would, since I still have a lot of reading to do. Not to mention that I would like to be done with the majority of this by Saturday so I can go watch the Buckeyes (win/lose) from the Union Station with my friends. I warned them that everytime I watch the Buckeyes play from there they lose, but they just shrugged it off. So, I'm warning you all, it's not my fault! You can blame Ron for this disaster!

Ciao, tutti!

Thursday's Dirty Details IV

Scene IV: The Trek HomeScene IV: The Trek Home

Now, I know that scenes I, II, and III can stand on their own, but I also know that scene IV cannot. After all, you'll all want to know why I was stranded in downtown Columbus at 1 in the am. SO, to keep you sane, I ask that you please read scene I, scene II, and scene III before proceeding with this story.

SO, there I was, standing outside of Garrett's Saloon, somewhere in or near German Village. The people who had brought me there were MIA. What is a little gay boy (OK, maybe not so little at 6 foot 200 lbs) to do?

Call a cab? Not in Columbus. Costs way too much.

Catch the bus? Um, not at that time of night.

Hmmm, guess it's time to walk. And walk. And walk. It took over an hour to get back where I belong, and I am NOT a slow walker. So there I was, cruising my way through the city streets, talking to myself, laughing hysterically, and generally freaking out anybody who crossed my path. A couple of cops actually did a slow cruise by me and checked me out. Of course, I did manage the psychosis I was feeling from too much alcohol. Actually, less than psychosis. My friend Jay said the best way to stay safe downtown, at night, is act crazy.

So, crazy I acted.

Finally, at about 1:15 am or so, I made it back to the Union Station. I walk in to get another drink, since I thought I needed it, and Kyle is like, "You're back!" So I explained where I ended up and he said, "That's near where I live." (Hmmmm, nice to know.) So I get another Long Island and a glass of water.

Then Howie shows up and he's like, "You're back!" Yeah, yeah, I'm back. So I explain to him what happened and that I had just finished walking back. "That's a long walk!" DUH, tell me about it! I sit there until about two or so, drinking my water and barely sipping my Long Island.

As I'm sitting there, I someone start running their hands thru my hair. Hmmmm. "This had better be a serious come on," I say. Then they grab my hair, pull back hard, and start kissing me. I think I was in shock because I actually started kissing this WOMAN back!!!! GAG!!!!!! It was wet, sloppy, and drunk, so totally not what I wanted at that point. To be honest, the urge to be sick is still there, even after 6 days. I'm not kidding, but making out with a guy is SOOO much more what I wanted at that point. (Did I ever mention that I turn slutty when I get drunk?)

After biting my lip she finally stopped and left the bar. I took a hefty swig of Long Island and scrubbed my lips with a napkin. After waiting a few minutes, and making sure she wasn't waiting for me outside, I left as well.

As I start my trek to the BFE of the Short North where I was going to crash for the night, I run into Howie. He was power walking toward me, carrying a bag in each hand. "Lunch or dinner?" I ask.

"Both," he said. "I haven't eaten a thing all day."

"That's not good."

"Heading home?"

"Close to home."

"Be careful."

"After what already happened, no worries there."

He laughed and I kept going. Eventually I made it to my bed for the night, sent an email to my friend Jay (who seems to enjoy my antics), and then I crashed. Hard.

Kittens, that was my night. On Monday I had another night worth mentioning, but... I'm afraid that one is a little too emotional at the moment. In fatto, penso che voglio che sera per me solo. (very bad Italian, but it has been awhile)

Well, tomorrow is Thursday again and it's time for more fun in the moon!

Thursday's Dirty Details III

Scene III: All About Garrett's

As most of you know, this serial story happened last Thursday. To understand how I got to this situation, you might want to read Scene I and Scene II.

OK, so Garrett's is a country-western gay bar. I've never been there as country-western is so NOT my scene. However, since I was basically the 10th wheel in a crowd of people I didna know, I couldn't exactly say I wanna go somewhere else. We get there, I walk in and pay my cover ($2 that night) see a stripper on stage, and hear the delightful voice of Miss Nina West!

A little digression. Miss Nina is a drag queen that does shows occasionally at Axis, the Union Station, and other places in the Short North. While I'm not normally into drag queens, she, at least, was someone I recognized.

Excitedly, I said to the Irish chick I was with, "I know that voice!" and began to look around for anyone in drag. I looked, and looked, and looked, all to no avail. There was no Miss Nina anywhere! Since nature was calling, and 4 Long Islands were desperately pushing past my bladder, I headed for the gents, did my business and then returned to the crowd. I looked around, found the crew I was with, and took a seat at the table they had commandeered.

As I looked around from that vantage point, I heard Miss Nina's voice again and, looking around, saw this guy walking around with a cordless mike. Just then, since my brain was somewhat pickled, I realized that a country-western bar wouldn't have a lot do to with drag queens. Let me tell ya, seeing Miss Nina outta character was too much of a shock.

The next thing I know the birthday boy is making his way on stage, followed by this tall, handsome, red-haired lad, who was taking off his belt. It was time for the birthday spakin'! Let's just say that everytime the b-day boy squirmed, complained, or even moved the wrong direction, Miss Nina (sans drag) made the stud start over. HEHEHE, too much fun! Glad I wasn't there for my b-day.

Eventually Miss Nina took pity on the b-day boy and had the bar bring up a sloppy jello shot (cherry, by the look of it). Studly took off his shirt and the b-day boy upended the shot onto studly's belly. Then SLURP! It took about a minute or so (the slurping, not the spilling) then the music started up and another stripper came on stage.

I turned to watch the stripper (he was quite good) and when I turned back the crew I was with were not in sight. Granted, I didn't make a circuit of the bar, but it wasn't that big. I could see every(one/thing) from from where I was sitting. Maybe they all had their backs to me or something. I'm not that good with backsides (clothed ones, anyway). So I got up and went out, thinking they had gone out for a fag (the British fags, not the American ones in the bar) or three. All to no avail. They weren't outside either.

Now, kittens, it's time to stop. Here ends Scene III. Domani, I will bring you Scene IV: The Trek Home.

Thursday's Dirty Details II

Scene 2: The SUV from hell

Just a warning for those who are just starting. If you haven't read Part I of this story, better do it now. Chances are this will stand on its own, but you'll probably want to know how I got into this situation.

Anyway, here I am, crawling into this big ol' tank of a vehicle with a str8 chick. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that I would get picked up in a gay bar by a str8 chick. Now, I know the Union Station plays hosts to all types, but it is primarily a gay bar.

But I digress. I crawl in, put on my seatbelt, and begin sipping my now wildly illegal Long Island. She crawls in, puts on a seatbelt, and lights up a fag. Sorry, the British version of the fag, not the American fag sitting next to her. She starts the vehicle and immediately starts badmouthing all the traffic around us. And we haven't even started moving yet. This shoulda been a red light in my mind, but that it wasn't.

So, after a lot of bad mouthing and manuevering, we make it to high street. Since I have no clue where we are going, I just make chit chat and don't comment on where we are going. We turn south, heading toward downtown, whipping thru traffic at something like 90 mph (well, it certainly felt that way!), when all of a sudden she says, "We're going the wrong way!"

HUH? She whips into the Convention Center drop off area and the next thing I know we're winging up High Street faster than before (so, something like 120 mph). Then this car pulls out in front of us and, instead of slowing down, she hits the horn, crosses the lovely double yellow line into oncoming traffic, passes, pulls back to the lane we belong in, and then proceeds to run a red light because she is now going something like 200 mph. AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!

Eventually we returned to the sedate speed of 120. In the meantime I'm checking my pants because I was sure I had pissed myself. But, alas, the pants were dry.

Finally, we make it to the house where we're supposed to meet up with the birthday boy and the others. After a half hour or so, and several fags later, I find myself back in the SUV, with the str8 Irish chick, driving through downtown. Fortunately, we are going at a respectable speed of 35 since we are behind the car that holds the b-day boy.

After 15 minutes (mainly because we stopped at a bank for money), we make it to, not a dance club, but a country-western gay bar.

OK, time to stop again. Stay tuned for Scene 3: All About Garrett's.

Thursday's Dirty Details

Ha! You all thought I forgot, didn't ya?!? Well, I didn't. I spent most of Friday nursing the hangover and trying to remember what I did. Anyway, here goes:

Scene 1: It starts

It all started simple enough. It was a simple, normal evening for me at the Union with my barstuds, er, bartenders, Howie and Kyle. Kyle's sporting a new look these days. He's gotten his hair in a buzz cut and is growing a beard thingy. Not sure what it's called. It's following his jaw line and only there. Whatever it is, the combo certainly makes him look more mature, masculine, and yummy! BTW- I asked him, with his bod, if he did any stripping, and he said, "No." DMAN!

Anyway, to get back on track. I was on and off talking to this guy named Jeff (very nice, very professional looking) when this chick kept butting in. Well, we were at the launch pad and we were between her and the bartender, so I was allowing her that. Anyway, everytime she came up it was chat, chat chat. So I was talking to her, Jeff was talking to her, Kyle was just taking her order and ignoring her (a plus for him).

I don't remember the gist of the conversations, but I was able to make out 3 things: 1) She's Irish (her parents came from Cork County), 2) She's straight (ditched her hubby and the kids for the night), and 3) She was there with a bunch of workmates celebrating this twinks birthday (very cute, if too young per me).

To try to shorten the story, she said they were going dancing and wanted to know if I would go with. By then I was 3 Long Islands into the wind (my usual stopping point) and was working on number 4 when this happened. I told her I wanted to finish the drink first, but she said, "Lemme see it." So I handed her the glass, closed my tab, and turned around to see her walking out the door. I followed her about to discover that she still had the drink with her. I took it back, hid it under my jacket, and followed her to her SUV.

Now, we all know I had been drinking, and I knew she had been drinking, but I didna know how much. I was soon to find out, however.

Y'know, I think I'll stop here for now. Make this into a serial story that'll keep you yelling for more. So, stay tuned for part II, coming soon from a laptop near you!

What a night!

OK, I'm a little too far gone to remember exactly what happened. Let's just say I left with a str8 chick, ended up at a place called Garret's, and had to walk over 1 hour just to get back where I belonged! Then I actually made out with some sloppy, drunk str8 lady. (yuck!)

Let's just say that, in the morning, when I post the gory details, you'll be like: "WTF were you thinking!!!"

In the meantime, buona notte!

Nothing like DULL

That's my weekend in one word, and it's been kinda nice. Especially since I've been sleeping 12 hours at a crack. That's AT a crack, not IN a crack. Though I probably wouldn't have minded that.

So, Friday, after a an extended session in the darkroom to get done (sorry Helene, blew you off for the chemicals), I came home, created some dinner, hit the couch, and didna move all night. Not until bedtime, anyway, which was about 11 or so. I watched "The Amityville Horror" with the yummy Ryan Reynolds. The movie wasn't so good (not if you've seen the original) but Ryan wasn't so bad (esp. the shirtless scenes). My friend Ron and I agree on one thing about this movie. The opportunity for shirtless scenes were far greater than what there were.

Also watched "Land of the Dead". Not quite sure how I feel about that movie. It was a real gore fest. Some scenes really had my squeamish, and I usually am not like that. Still, there was a good plot there, I just don't think Romero took it to where it needed to go. Somehow, the zombies, esp Big Daddy, were the heroes. I might watch it again to see if I can find some deeper meaning, but it will be a while. Too much gore at one time does give me nightmares.

Then comes Saturday, and 12 hours of sleep. I get up, run a few errands, pamper myself a bit (not in pampers, btw), then it was off to Ron and Tim's for pizza and a movie. We watched "The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". Hmmm, about the only interesting thing in that movie was Costas, the shirtless Greek stud. Of course, it was a teen chick-flick, so whaddya expect?

Then it was off to home and 11 hours of sleep. Would've been 12, but the time change caught me off guard.

SO, no gory details about the weekend. The only excitement I had was Thursday night, and that was because Kyle got a haircut. While I'm still adjusting to his new look, he certainly looks more mature, more masculine, and certainly more yummy. Unfortunately, I'm more sure now than ever that my barslut, er barstud, er bartender is a straightboy. DMAN! I watched him interact with all the gay bartenders and waiters and saw how, uh, squeamish (?) he got when they got a little touchy feely with him. Maybe he just needs a good man to bed him???

Well, must get moving. Have another essay to post, a house to clean, and too much laundry to do.

Buon giorno, tutti!

Memories

Don't know what brought this up, but I had a flash back to the good ol' days when I was a real party animal. Something about the weather, the feel of the night, the hungover feeling you get when you party too much the night before. Y'know, things from back in the day that always come back at the weirdest moments.

For instance, right now, I remember climbing Bong Hill in Athens. I was 6 sheets to the wing, dressed all preppy (because that's how you dressed back then), along with Paul and some other kid who I've completely forgotten. The clearest memory is standing at the top of the hill, overlooking the city at 3 in the am, the wind blowing up the hill. I felt like the God of the Night, Chaos, and Party Animals overlooking his domain.

Good times.

But that is not the memory that comes to mind. At least, not when I started his post many weeks ago. Good thing I remembered this post.

There I was, walking down Woody Hayes Blvd, minding my own business, when outta the blue comes this image of Angie, the party animalette I used to hang with (she wished I would date her, but...). There we were, in the middle of the night, at this guys house. She was trying to score some weed for us to party with, and I was already 6 sheets to the wind (as you've probably noticed, I'm always 6 sheets to the wind. 7 sheets I usually don't remember well).

Anyway, for whatever reason, I needed to completely demolish this tree. I don't recall that it had done anything bad to me, but I was just in that mood. So there I was, punching and kicking and cursing this tree, totally in my own little world when I hear this gruff voice saying, "What the hell are you doing?"

I turned around and there's this guy standing there with a shotgun pointed right at me. I think my punkass comment was, "WTF do you want?"

"I'm tired of you a$$holes destroying my mailbox!" The gun is still pointed at me, by the way.

"I ain't touching yo damn mailbox," I said. Oh, I tend to talk hick when I get overly drunk, so bear wit may. :) "Look at it!" Then I turned to walk away.

"I'm not done with you, punk!" This guy is really getting pissed.

I turned back to him, spread my arms wide, and said, "Do yo wursht."

About that time I'm surrounded by Angie, Noelle, Dan, and the dude Noelle was dating at the time (it changed weekly). "It's cool," Dan said. "No damage done. We're leaving now."

Then they bustled me into the car and we left. Boy, did I get reamed by them or what. Not because I was acting stupid, but because they couldn't get their weed.

C'est la vie!

Of course, that wasn't the only time I had a gun pointed at me, but that's a story for another day, kittens.

The Virgins Gather

Let the Gathering of the Virgins BEGIN!

Er, uh, well, maybe tomorrow. Can you tell I'm a little excited about seeing The Rocky Horror Picture Show tomorrow? "Let's do the Time Warp again!" Pretty sad that I know that song, as well as "Science Fiction, Double Feature", by heart. Well, doesn't matter. Tomorrow promises to be a rockin' good time. Still haven't decided if I want to show up as Brad, in my boxers, white t-shirt, and dorky glasses. Well, if I can find the dorky glasses. Haven't seen them in a while.

Anyone else wanna go? Looking for a Janet, Riff Raff, Dr. Frank N Furter, Magenta, and Columbia. Of course, we can't forget Rocky himself. Any of you beefy studs who are reading this wanna play Rocky? Dress in skimpy clothes, hang off my shoulder, and make me look goooood?

Probably not. Better off if I show up in costume, drag, or anything else (except normal clothes). Not quite sure if the crowd will be totally into the Rocky Horror cult phenom. Still and all, a date would be nice.

On a brighter note, Howie is BACK! FINALLY! Spoke to him a bit tonight, asked if he was in vacation, in the hospital, both? He wishes! No, he had to go to Cinncinatti (sp?) to open the new USVC there. Ended up having to fire two guys. The first was rude to the customers, the other was a complete incompetent. He said, "I so love bringing people to ruin!" Ok, Howie, come off the powertrip.

Finally heard from James. Thought maybe a pile of papers had fallen on him, giving him amnesia. NAH. He's just stressing about his job. He was down here a couple of weeks ago and I probably just missed him. He didna have my number with him so he couldn't call and set up anything. On the weird side, I think he was at Havana's the same time I was there with Danny. Figures. If I'd've seen him, I probably woulda had more fun that night. After all, James has a thing for Librans...

Well, tutti, e' tardi e sono stancho. Buona notte!

The Birthday Drunk

OK, ok, I know I wasn't going to talk about my b-day, but I have to figure out what I did. For some reason I have this feeling...

Anyway, it all started out calmly with a large vanilla latte (my second for the day). That was about 6:30 or so. Kyle was there, but I was at the wrong end of the bar to keep him under my thumb. Once I was done with the latte, I started in on the evening. I had my usual Long Island and the sloppiest sandwich in the world (the Big Mama Italian sandwich). Mmmm, my mouth waters just thinking about it (sorry Kyle).

I decide to take my time and make the night last as long as possible. About 9:30 or so I have finished my 3d Tea and 2d glass of water when Tim and his roommate (hereafter known as TK) show up. Tim promptly tells Kyle it's my b-day. Then Kyle more or less backhands me, saying, "Why did you tell me it was your birthday?"

"Uh, technically, it was yesterday."

But I don't think he heard me because he bustled away to mix a drink. Little did I know that it (the drink he was mixing) was meant for me. He comes back, drops this delicious looking drink in a shot glass in front me and says, "Happy birthday" with one of his beautiful smiles. The drink smelled and tasted like a white cake with vanilla frosting! DMAN it was tasty, just like the server.

Well, 10 minutes after I down the drink (the only way to drink a drink in a shot glass) I lost track of the evening. What I mean is, things got kinda hazy and time telescoped. Seriously telescoped.

After the drink we moved to a table and I tried to just stick with the water I'd been drinking. But, somewhere along the line I musta thought another Long Island was needed because I ended up with another one. Then TK and Tim left and I moved back to the bar (after the drag show, whatever time that was) and Kyle yelled at me because I let the ice melt in the last drink. Sorry Kyle, it was either take it easy with this drink or throw up on the bar. Your choice. Shortly after that I left.

It is the 10 pm to 1:30 am time frame that has me worried most. While I don't remember doing anything wrong, or stupid, or foolish, or embarrasing, something happened that I'm not remember. Not fully, anyway. I guess it call comes down to when TK and Tim left, around 11 or 11:30. Tim said something like, "I hope he calls you."

Huh? He who? DMAN!!! Who the hell was I hitting on?

Well, tutti, if you were there, and you saw me, please tell me what the hell I was doing!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!

Short sweet

and to the fucking point. I'm trashed!

I met this guy tonight, named Timothy, who approached me thru Out In Columbus. He was really nice and funny. We both thought the guy in the half-toga was fucking hot and just drunk enough to do. SO MUCH FLESH AND SO LITTLE PLEASURE. Gods, even now the memory is stirring urges that were better left quiescent. Ah, to touch, to rub, to suck...

But I digress. Most important, Timothy didn't take advantage of the drunk boy (namely, me). Even thos I SO WANTED HIM TO. Kudos to you, Timothy!

Well, I'm off. It's been a long day, I'm well toasted, and I'm very tired.

Buona notte, tutti!

Dirty old man

Um, yeah, that's me. Dirty old man. Last night, in just 2 minutes I went from sex-starved to dirty old man. I found out my favorite barslut, er, bartender is only 23. I coulda swore he was closer to 27. I've already been harassed for robbing the cradle with Kevin, now there is Kyle. Hmmm, maybe that's the problem. I have this thing for guys whose names begin with K and are 23. NOT. You have to see Kyle (and Kevin) to understand. These two guys just exuded sexual energy.

So, how did I found out his age, you ask? Well, kittens, sit back and relax because this slut is gonna tell.

I was totally enjoying myself last night. I'd been able to get a chair next to the launch pad (that's what I call it) so I could keep Kyle in sight all night long. HOT! Although, he is getting in need of a hair cut. Still, he is very sexy. At one point he bent over to get a bottle from under the bar and his short rode up exposing, of all things, his tighty whities!!!!!!!! Didna figure him for the tighty whitie type. Already my mind can his perfect erection as I... Ooops, sorry, didna mean to get so porno on you.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. At one point this guy hits the launch pad and Kyle says, "What can I do for ya, sir?"

I said, "Don't call him "sir". That's an insult. "Sir" is everone's father."

Kyle says, "I'm just trying to be respectful."

The guy says, "I am old enough to be his father."

I say, "Really?"

Kyle says, "Yeah, you're probably old enough to be my father too."

I ask, "How old are you?"

Kyle replies, "23."

I tell him, "Do you realize how young I would have to be to father a child your age?" Then my mind does the math (36-23=13). "Okay, it's possible." Then I think some more (my brain wasn't running as fast as usual), and get a little indignant. "How the hell old do you think I am?"

Kyle looks at me and furrows his brow. "Probably about 32."

Okay, I can handle that. Gotta love that guy! Actually, would still love to make love to that guy. However, that really screws up the math (32-23=9). I was a lot of things at 9 years old, but sexually active was not one of them. Even after that, women were just not in the picture (or dreams or fantasies). So, while I could've father him, the chances are so remote as to be laughable.

But does that make me a dirty old man for lusting after a 23 year old? My friend, Jay, says not. Now, if I were going after a twinkie under 21 he would worry. Then he says that it's probably a good thing I don't go to the Full Monty (next to Havana's) or I'd be broke. Evidentally the boys there will do anything (except anal sex) during their lap dances. 10 dollars to get in, no alcohol (except what you've already drunk), and money for the boys. Well, mebbe some night when I'm really, really drunk and horny.

Anyway, I ended the evening at about midnight (the drag queens put on a bad lip-synching show) and I left my lustful bartender. So, I got out my iPod, tuned it to "Dark Lady" (the club mix) and walked to my truck. I cranked up the music and, at one point, was singing (at the top of my voice) and dancing and grooving my way up the Short North. Quite a sight! Even the critters of the night avoided me. Then I got home, wrote a couple of drunken emails, and crashed at about 2.

Of couse, a lot more happened that night than me finding out Kyle's age and realizing that I was a dirty old man. But, kittens, those other stories are for me and me alone.

Must run. I have a lot of errands to do today before pizza and wine. Ciao, tutti!

Now that I've reset myself

OK, now that I've reset, I think I'll be feeling better. Now, if I could only reset my life a little...

You know, now that I say that I recall a moment, when I was very young, when I thought I had reset the day. It was weird. I had lived about 1/2 the day, decided I wanted to start over because... Well, I don't remember why exactly. Then I closed my eyes real tight and woke up again that morning. And the promptly lived the same day over again, with no change.

Guess I was too young to make any changes in a life I've already lived. I think I was only 4 at the time.

I think I did it once more after that, when I was 13 or so, but that one is harder to remember. I do remember I wanted to start over and did, but it was several days. But, the details of the days were not consistent with the first set of days I had lived, so I think that must've been a dream. Not sure if it was the first set that was the dream or the second set.

Makes a good story, don't it. Well, it probably was or is a story somewhere, but when I was 4 I wasn'told enough to read books of that level. When I was 13? Who knows. I had just started reading so I "might" have read something like it. Still, that was 23 years ago.

If I could turn back time, reset my life to a previous point with full knowledge of what was going on, would I? Hell yeah! Think of all the fun I could have. Think of all the problems I could avoid! Who knows, if the math on the first one was right, (4*3+1=13), then the next time would be when I'm 40 (13*3*1=40). Or would it be +2, since it's the second time around?

Oh, well. Probably won't have the strength to do it when it comes around again. If wishes were fishes...

Well, now that I'm alert, I must go. Too much to do and not enough of me to do it.

Not AGAIN!

Ugh, I think it's going to be another one of those days. I got to bed at midnight (after a full and active day) and fell asleep fairly quickly, but... Yeah, but. I woke up at 3 in the AM and was wide awake after that. So, at 6 I decide to just get up and get it over with. Got showered, shaved, and all prettied up for the day only to get so tired that I want to go back to sleep.

I think I'll blame James. Huh, what's that? James who? Hmmm, guess I haven't mentioned him before now. Well, babies, he's my dirty little secret (for now). Laura, you keep your mouth shut!!!

Feh. I think I'm going to do that. Go back to bed, that is. As sluggish as I am now, it's probably not safe to drive.

Well, ragazzi, I guess it's good night, again. Or, rather, good morning and hope to see some of you later today!

Tagged for Memes

DMAN DMAN DMAN

Thought I'd check up on the blogs I'm doing for my essay and at the end of the latest one by Chad Fox, he says, "Now, I'm not going to tag anyone in particular for this, but if you are reading this AND you have a blog, consider yourself tagged."

SHIT!

The last one is a little involved, but worth it. SO, me being the great guy that I think I am, here they are:

Ten songs that define me. Ok, this one is tough since they cross many genres. Go ahead, laugh:
1) Midnight Train to Georgia
2) Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
3) 18 and Life (Skid Row)
4) Toy Soldiers (Martika)
5) Don't Cry for me Argentina (the original version)
6) Memories (from Cats)
7) Send in the Clowns (by Babs)
8) The Rose (by Bette)
9) Fancy (Reba McIntire, for those who don't know)
10) Cherish (The Association)

Ten songs that I'm currently digging. This one is much easier. Now, where is my iPod?
1) Holiday
2) Mr. Brightside
3) Behind those Hazel Eyes
4) Dark Lady
5) Foxtrot Unicorn Charlie Kilo
6) Lose Control
7) Cool
8) Growltiger's Last Stand (from Cats)
9) Helena
10) Ball and Chain

SEVEN Things:

7 things I plan to do before I die:
1) Travel Europe
2) Meet at least 1 famous actor (maybe even an actress)
3) Learn to sing
4) Finish and get published one book
5) Get some "artsy" photographs
6) Get some "artsy" photographs into a gallery
7) Reconcile myself to my brother

7 things I can do:
1) Bar hop with the best
2) Write kick-ass stories
3) Successfully hit on lesbians
4) Write very bad love poetry
5) I'm a good listener
6) Take very good pictures (just don't post them, yet)
7) Change the oil in my truck

7 things I cannot do:
1) Play the piano
2) Act
3) Pick up guys (just dirty old men, street/bar trash, and boys too young to drink)
4) Advanced calculus
5) Juggle
6) Talk civilly to my brother
7) Kiss the moon

7 things that attract me to the same or opposite sex:
1) Smile
2) Dark hair/eyes
3) Pale skin
4) Humor
5) Street smarts
6) Laughter
7) Gets my jokes

7 things that I say most often:
1) WHAT THE FUCK!
2) Son of a bitch
3) Gotta tinkle
4) Hang on to your diapers, babies, we're going in
5) Fuckin' A
6) Shit
7) Ciao, tutti

7 celebrity crushes:
1) Freddie Prinz Jr.
2) Casper Van Dien
3) Charlie Sheen
4) Brandon Flowers
5) Jake Gyllenhaal
6) Catherine Zeta Jones
7) Patrick Dempsey

Ok, now that I've bared my soul (so to speak) let the digs and jabs begin! Let the heckling commence. Oh, and if you read this and have your own blog, let you suffer also! Just like the delectible (sp?) Chad Fox did, post your own and let me know.

Ciao, tutti!

Aaargh, the PAIN!

OK, for anyone who has been reading, just a reminder that Wednesday was a very bad day for me. I woke up feeling crappy anyway, but as the day wore on the muscles in my back started spasming and tightening to the point that it hurt to sit, to stand, to walk, to turn my head... I think you get the picture. So I went home early, dug in to my medicine cabinet, and found the purty drugs I took last time this happened.

After a while, life was GOOD. I was watching the tele while floating on narctics, muscle relaxers, and anit-inflammatories. I got up to go to the kitchen to get a drink of water and promptly slammed my foot into the doorframe. OWWWIEEEEE! When I say slammed, I mean SLAMMED. I hit hard enough that I broke one toe and severely bruised the bone just behind the joint. Unfortunately, there was nothing the doctor could do. He wanted me to wear a surgical shoe for a few weeks, but, come on. I may not have that much fashion sense, but I'm certainly not going to wear a shoe that will make me look dorkier than I already am.

ANYWAY, I didn't let that slow me down. After being in the photo lab all day Thursday, I head for my favorite watering hole. Once there, I grab a spot at the bar and begin to work on Kyle, one of my favorite bartenders, according to David's Rule #1: Hot bartenders (male or female) are there to be flirted with and ogled at. After all, you can't do anything else to 'em, er, with them. And, considering I was feeling pretty flirty that night, I had a real good time.

At least, I must've had a good time according to the voice memo I found on my mobile. Let's see, how does it go? "There he was, standing with his legs straddled and OH MY GOD! SO FUCKING HOT! SO SEXY! I so want to have him do me!" Um, OK. I do remember him putting a bottle between his legs and bracing it that way so that he could open it. WOW! The image that came to my mind was... WOW! I think the description is way to pornographic for a blog.

I also learned that enough Long Islands will kill almost any pain.

Friday comes around and I'm supposed to go clubbing with my friend Helene. But NOOOO, she's sick. She dudn't want to go anywhere. Um, hello! I have a broken foot and I'm still going dancing. Severity of the situation: slight head cold or broken bone? Hmmm, I think I get to win on the whining front.

So that put me in a right rotten mood, so, since I was all dressed up with no place to go, I decided to go out anyway. I totally ignored David's Rule #2: Never drink when you're in a violent bad mood. To make a long story short, I now have David's Rule #3: Never go out drinking alone. You'll end up either picking up bar/street trash, or you'll become bar/street trash.

I get to the bar and neither Kyle nor Howie was working. Jon (another hottie I don't know that well) was working the tables so all I got was the occasional glimpse of his dark brooding eyes. But that's beside the point. I had about 5 rum & cokes in 3 hours and then decided to head home. On the way, around Havana's, I bump into this guy named Danny. He's trying to bum a cigarette off me, but since I don't smoke, we decide to head into Havana's for a drink. Now I'm up to 6 rum & cokes in 3.5 hours. Can we say "overkill"?

To make a long story short, we bar hopped, we ran around while he got his act together, then we headed over to my place for what I was hoping was some really hot, sweaty, monkey sex. NOT. He's not gay, he's bi. And he didn't want me to do a lot of things that would've rocked his world. And mine, for that matter. At least one of us was able to get off (uh, me!).

Eventually, his need for a cig overcame his need to get off, so I took him back to the short north and dropped him off. So disappointing. Hence, the whole reason for not picking up street / bar trash. I might add a thing about bi boys / guys who are "sensitive" about the more fun stuff of pure, hot, rowdy, gay sex. Now for David's Rule #4: Be sure the guy really wants gay sex, not just a quick blow job.

Now we are at Saturday and, after Friday night, I decide I have to get outta the city and back to my roots. I gather up my photog equipment and head down to Hocking Hills. I took some excedrin and popped some anti-inflammatories. It's probably the only reason I was able to hike around all day getting pictures. Unfortunately, a lot of the pics came out blurry. Since the light level was soooo low I had to use a slow shutter speed. Therefore, any shaking from my hand would be picked up by the camera, resulting in a blurry pic. DMAN! About 1/2 of them are blurry. Still, I do have a lot of good pics for class.

Once I get back to the city, I head to the USVC for dinner, drinks, and to watch the Buckeye's lose. Following Rule #1 (above) I flirted heavily with my other favorite bartender, Howie. When he was too busy to be ogled at, I chatted up the lesbian couple sitting next to me. Since I was so not wanting the usualy drinks, Howie mixed up something called a Beefeater (MMMMM for both the drink and the imagery it conjures).

I ended up having 5 of those that night. I'm not sure who bought the last one, tho. I know I didn't pay for it, the lesbians didn't pay for it, Howie didn't pay for it (I don't think).... Hmmm, wonder which one of the hotties at the bar bought it for me. Because, there were a lot of cuties hanging around.

I finally went home and crashed. More to the point, I actually passed out. It's been a long time since I passed out from drinking too much (like 15 years). I woke up at about 3:30 or 4:30 (not sure which) to find the TV going full blast. The movie "Godzilla vs. Hedorah" was playing, which was just WEIRD. I had read about it on this other student's blog. OK, that's just too weird.

Finally, we make it to Sunday. Nothing much happening now. Catching up on work and browsing the web. I downloaded this cute photo:



Since the grays were too uniform, I tried my hand at adjusting the photo manually. I added more contrast and changed the lighting a little to get this:



Yeah, I know, you can't see the face as well as befire, probably why it was so light originally. However, the second photograph has much more detail. Guess all the photog classes are paying off after all! Just wish the resolution were a little better, but I don't have the original to play around with. Oh, and if you know who this guy is, tell him he's a great subject.

Well, now that I have this photo thing down pat, so to speak, it'll be easier to post some of my favorite pictures that I have done recently.

Ciao, tutti!

Blah, indeed!

Gods, I hate pain. I felt crappy this morning, but now... At first I thought it was my kidneys, thought maybe I had a kidney stone/infection. Now I'm pretty sure it's not that. All the muscles in my back are spasming (and not in a good way). It's so bad that I can barely turn my head without any pain. Certainly, anything that involves movement in the back is just fucking agony. I took some hydrocodone (it's supposed to be some pretty good shit) earlier, but it ain't cutting thru at all. Of course, also took an anti-histamine by mistake, so maybe the two are counteracting each other. About 1/2 hour ago I took a muscle relaxant, and it feels like it is starting to kick in. In another hour or so I'll try the darvocet. The combonation of them will work. I hope.

For my photography project I only have to do my "spectacular" photo. I have an idea what I want to do, but it may take some finagling (sp?). Going to take the best picture of my Rat-Boy and turn him into a superstar. When that's done, then I'll start making prints of the pics that I nearly ruined in processing yesterday. Some of them look like they will turn out fairly good.

Not sure if I'll go hiking at Old Man's Cave this weekend or not. With First Friday in two days, and me being Helene's token gay guy, may be too tired to do anything on Saturday. Have to wait and see, tho.

Actually, may not be albe to make my normal rendezvous at the USVC tomorrow. Depends on how much pain I'm in. Then again, a little hooch to intensify the pain killers may help. Need to remember to take taxi money, just in case. Or call Helene and get her skinny ass outta bed. :)

Ooowwwwiiieee! Dman, moved the wrong fucking way.

Should I mention the kinky shit I did to get this way? MMMM. A lady never kisses and tells. Let's just say that there are certain things you shouldn't do unless you are really limber. Really, really limber.

Well, I probably divulged too much (NOT).

Not quite time for Darvocet, but who cares...

(and time passes)

Puff the magic dragon, lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist, in a land called...

Er, wheeee! Well, mebbe not. That song always made me sad.

So, on a happier note, do any of you hot sexy guys/gals want erotic photos done? They'll be black and white, but I'll provide the film, contact sheets, and any prints you want (maximum size of 8x10). Any (legal) location and you must be over 21 (will need to check ID).

Well, must be off. I think I can float to the bed.

Buona notte, care miei. Dream dreams of wild, screaming, police-calling sex!

DMAN DMAN DMAN! Go figure, blogger decides to do maintenance just when I want to post. Guess I'll have to do other things until maintenance is done. GODS above and below. Just when a body needs a body to help pass the time, there is no one around. Mebbe there's a hot hunk (or two) on OIC who is willing to come on over to cum all over???

(and more time passes)

HEHEHE, NO PAIN! Gotta love those narcotics. Now I remember why I was such a druggy in my younger days. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

(so much time passes that... WTF was I typing?)

FINALLY! Never thought the fucking site would be down this long. What moron would OK regular maintenance during a time when people want to blog? Fekkin' idiots!!!

Blah

Short sweet and to the point. I feel like crap. Either I'm staying up too late or I'm being WAY too active. Something has got to give, and I think it's the body. Guess there is no working out today.

Took a bunch of pics yesterday and then went to OSU to process them. Get there and can't find the little metal spools that I need to wrap the film on. I figure I must've taken them out and forgot to put them back in my locker. SO, I manage to find some spare spools, but they must've been bad because I ruined the majority of the film! DMAN DMAN DMAN!!!

At least it will be easy to redo the ones that need redone. GRRRR.

Well, I'm running behind on everything and gotta get outta here.

Alla prossima!

Another recovery day

Damn, I either need to stop bar hopping and dancing or I need to build up my stamina. I actually thought I behaved myself Saturday night, but I guess not. The Gallery Hop was rather boring. While there were a lot of interesting people to look at, and some of the music on the street was good, it just didn't have the same kick. Guess it was because I was ALL ALONE FUCKING AGAIN.

Well, to be honest, it was my own idea to got it alone. Some of my friends are such buzz kills (not you Helene!).

So, I parked way up on King Avenue, then weaseled my way down High St. I made my usual way through the crowds (watching the patterns they were making and oozing thru the cracks), sometimes stepping into the street to get around a traffic jam. I did stop briefly to ogle Laura's boys as they danced half nekkid in the window display of the Full Monty (right next to Havana's, if you're interested). While they were delectable, I was a queer on a mission.

Eventually, I made my way to the Union Station, my destination della sera. My idea was to get a few drinks down my gullet, play some pool, then head over to Axis to dance the night away. Just my luck, though, no one was playing pool and the bar wasn't that crowded. SO, I complimented Howie on his choice of attire (he'd pulled his t-shirt off one hot shoulder) and began drinking.

Then, Helene calls. She's on her way back from Toledo and wants to PAR-TAY!, but she has a bunch of stuff in her car and doesn't want to park in the Short North (too many weirdos around). Guess who volunteers to go get her... Before I left, though, the power went out. The whole block (actually, several blocks) went dark. Something to do with a power transformer that fell onto a car just outside Howie's apartment. Personally, I think he had something to do with it, but I just can't prove it.

To put a long story short, the power came back on 1/2 hour later, I power walked to my car in 15 minutes (normally a 25 minute walk), got Helene and made it back to the Union Station. This time the place was crowded. I had SO MUCH FUN making my way back to the pool tables. The leading hand pressed against backs and touched shoulders while the trailing hand groped asses and caressed crotches (good hand!). After a couple of drinks, we went to Axis and danced for many hours, then went home.

Next weekend, we're going out on Friday. Helene has decided to play for the other team for a while so we are going to First Friday at the Wall Street Night Club. For those who don't know, First Friday is when lesbians from all over come to party. There are a few "token" gay guys there, but it is mostly for the chicks. I get to be Helene's token gay. Who knows, maybe the guys hand out in one small corner while the girls grind on the dance floor? I might actually score for once!

Well, enough of that. For those of you who read this, October 26 the Union Station is play "Rocky Horror" at 9 pm. I have every intention of being there. If you want to join me, please let me know so that I can make arrangements. Otherwise, I'll be there all by my lonesome. :( If you show up, we can do the Time Warp together!!!

Hmmm, okay, guess I should be going to bed. I doubt I'll get any sleep. I got up at 11 am, but took at 2 hour nap at 4 pm. Now I have to get up at 7 to go to OSU early and do some homework that didn't get done. UGH!

Buona notte, cari miei!

The night after

Ever had one of those days when you had fun the night before and were still buzzing with it the next day? That's me, today. Actually, tonight. 24 hours after I get home from a night of Long Islands at the Union Station and I still feel slightly drunk. I mean, come on. I only drank 2 Smirnoff Ices tonight (at home) and that about tipped me over the edge. Guess my liver isn't too happy with me at the moment.

Call me out on this, but isn't there an unwritten law that hot bartenders at gay bars are supposed to wear shorts and t-shirts to show off their hot bods??? Well, Howie (the sexy one) behaved himself last night and wore a pair of shorts that showed his legs and ass to perfection. Gotta love Howie. He's got that dark, curly hair that I would just love to run my hands thru. Mmmmm! Kyle (the bartender that just exudes SEX), on the other hand, broke the law. He actually wore jeans! (gasp!!!) And they were the most unflattering pair of jeans I've ever seen. They did absolutely nothing for his ass(ets). When I called him on it, his excuse was "it's getting cooler out lately". Hmmm, if you're that chilly come over here, I know I can keep ya warm.

Still, I have to admit, I had a great time undressing him in my mind. I wonder if Kyle looks as good without clothes as he does with clothes? But I wander... I was going to reiterate (just for my friends and my new readers) that I love Howie to death and would do him in a heartbeat. BUT, I would let Kyle do my in the middle of the bar with everyone looking on. Y'all didn't know I was such an exhibitionistic slut, did ya?

Damn, starting to speak hick again. Gotta lay off the hooch tomorrow night when I go clubbing. Can't be doing this on Sunday when I go to the photo lab to do more prints.

I think I mentioned previously that I had processed my film for my Art 400 class on Moanday. Well, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were all dedicated to producing contact sheets and various types of prints. They are f*ing AWESOME. I showed Jay, my masseur, what I had so far and he was impressed. According to him, I have an "eye" for the art. Makes me wonder why the hell I'm an English major. Oh, yeah, I remember. The curriculum for an art / photography major was insane. (but I never said that outloud!) Maybe, if I can get my scanner to do what it was designed to, I will post some pics for viewing.

I spent a lot of time today helping Angie (another photography student) get caught up. She was still working on processing her film and hadn't gotten around to making any contact sheets or prints. So, I helped her out until they closed the photo lab and kicked us out. I think there was a problem with the processing of her film because we couldn't get the contact sheets to come clean (er, not too light or dark). We made 3, but she is going to have to go to Colleen and have her take a look at them.

I've been spending the last few days reading the Chad Fox blog, trying to get an idea of what blogging is really like. I have to say, this guy is a BLAST to read. If you've ever wondered what gay life in San Francisco is like (or could be like, if you were THE Chad Fox) when you have ADD (the adult kind) and thing for photography and blogging, then this is the blog for you. I've been reading his post in order, from the earliest to the latest, and I think I am getting an idea what Chad is like. And his blog, too, for that matter.

Chad is an EXCELLENT photographer. He has some images of his friend Daigle that are to drool for. Can't remember where they are, at the moment, but if you take the time to go through the blog you will find them. Chad has also posted an image of his ass (well, half his ass) and a rather pornographic shot of him giving a bj to his (now ex) boyfriend! He's also related some stories of how he lost his underwear at a couple of bars. Very funny! Ah, to be young and hot. Oh, wait, he's only 2 years younger than me. Guess that means I'M YOUNG! WOOHOO!

I have to ask... Do we have a "Trannyshak" here in Columbus? I think that's a bar in the good ol' SF. When I first ran across that name in Chad's blog, it was in relation to a computer failure, so I thought Trannyshak was gayspeak for RadioShak. Y'know, like Homo Depot.

Hmmm, guess it's time for another internet quiz:


You Are The Suave Gay Man


What Type Of Gay Man Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Once again, if I looked like the stud in the picture, I probably wouldn't be blogging about what I haven't been doing lately. Being gay and single ain't all it's cracked up to be. Mmmmm, crack. They say crack kills, but oh, what a way to go! Pounding and grunting and sweating and...

Sorry, got carried away. But, please, feel free to fantasize! :)

Belli, this kitten is getting tired. If I'm going to have any energy for dancing I'm going to have to hit the sack (alone again, dammit!) soon. 'Sides, I feel myself starting to think in hick again. Guess I need to head back to the hills and get it outta my system again.

Buona notte, tutti! xoxoxoxoxo

Dropped

OK, finally decided to drop a class. Now I only have 3 classes, none of which are on Tuesday / Thursday. I thought that I could do 20 hours, but... Oh, well. Something about this quarter feels different. Mebbe it's the party-boy in me coming back to life. Helene said I was nuts, but what does she know. She won't even go dancing with me. Weirdness. After all, she likes to hang out at gay clubs / bars.

Processed my first batch of black and white film today in my photography class. I didn't do too awful bad. The last few pics on each roll was ruined because the film kinked up. The rest look good, tho. Next time I'll know how to hold the film as I unspool it onto the reels. At least I wasn't the only one who made a mistake. Another guy did the same as I did, but only to one roll.

Saw Dean today. He is looking hot as ever. Damn, wish I had the balls to ask him out. I have a feeling that a stud like him could really rock my world (amongst other things). However, I was on the phone listening to Helene whine about how her gay boyfriend is mad at her. Well, mebbe mad at her. Str8 girls, they have more drama than any twink I have ever known! Because of HELENE he got away! :)

Anyway, where was I... Oh, yeah, time for another quiz. I found this one a while ago, but I don't think it accurately represents me. But, then, that could just depend on who you ask.

Take the quiz:
"Your Bedtime Body Language (PICS)(Guys Only)"



Face Down
Studs who sleep on their stomachs have passion and energy. Your a hands on guy who tends to be punctual and successful. One caveat: Your propensity to hog the bed space with your sprawling position suggests you might be a tad controlling.

Hmmm, I know I do NOT look like that when I sleep. I mean, come on, if I looked that sexy I wouldn't have any problems finding a man. Then again, what do I know. I can only see myself thru my eyes, and I remember how good I used to look. Guess it's time to hit the gym again. And again, and again. Back on the high protein diet, too. That seemed to work last spring when I lost 15 pounds. You remember, back when I was drooling after studly. Er, I mean, Kevin.

That's all for now, ragazzi. I must be off to bed and pretend to get to sleep before 3 am. Mebbe if I found a decent club to go dancing at on a Moanday night I could wear myself out faster. Then again, I only got 4 hours of sleep last night...

Allora, sono stancho. Ciao, tutti!

Recovery Mode

Yes, I know, I shouldn't be out hitting the clubs all night, but what can I say? I LOVE TO DANCE!!! Well, I wasn't out all night, either. I hit the Union Station and played pool for a few hours with this cute neo-goth. Then he left and, since I couldn't get anyone to play with me (pool, you perverts!) I headed out for Axis. It was a little early, but I was bored and Howie (one of my favorite bartenders) was working hard and couldn't chat.

When I got to Axis, there wasn't anyone there. So I had another drink and hung around on the wall, watching the drag queens getting ready for their show. When the drink was done I hit the dance floor. It was just me and a little, black drag queen in training. Did I care? NO! Eventually more and more people arrived and joined us and I got lost in a crowd of gyrating, hot, sweaty people (most of them guys who kept taking their shirts off!!!). I think I danced 3 hours straight, except for one bathroom break. Y'know, there was actually a line for the men's room. Knew I shoulda gone to the ladies... :)

Anyway, I had a great time, even if I was by myself. I don't remember how many times I let my hand graze someone's arm, ass, chest, back. I may have even hit a crotch or three! Hell, I even took off my shirt near the end. Good thing I had a sleeveless T on underneath. Don't need to go scaring everyone. :)

But, in the end, I came home alone. Probably a good thing. I've been carrying a low grade fever for the past few weeks. Don't need to be getting a potential bf/lover sick on the first night.

So, I didn't get home until 3 and got to sleep sometime after 4. Then I get up at 10! WTF! Now I have to fight sleep off so that I can get all my homework done.

I was crawling through blogs this morning and found a link to one of those cool quizzes that tell you something about yourself. Very accurate, for me:



You are savvy, sassy and always on the go!
Even if it means borrowing someone else's
car without asking! Sometimes you say
the wrong thing at the wrong time, but
that's why we all love you!

Which Golden Girl Are You?

Hmmm, I think I remember holding a knife and laughing maniacally. Once or twice, anyway.

I have done a bunch of other quizzes, but I will add them in a bit at a time over the next few posts.

Well, tutti, I must be off. Chaucer ain't gonna read himself.

A domani!

Sorry I was away soooo long...

You know how it is. Once I was away from school, and since I don't work, I got extremely lazy and partyboy-ish. Sitting down to post a blog was not at the top of my agenda, while drinking and chasing guys was. So far, nothing new on the bf front. I keep meeting a LOT of cute guys, possibly interesting guys, but I just don't have the bahogies to go up and introduce myself.

Went to Helene to Tradewinds last weekend and had a BLAST! I forgot how much fun dancing is. Actually, I forgot how good I am. Not was good as Helene, of course, but not bad. I'd say I'm better than most straight boys, but, then again, who isn't!

So, classes have just begun. Can we say "stressed"? I don't know why, but this should be that difficult. After all, I took 20 hours last spring and did OK. I just didn't have to develop my on pictures for photography. This quarter I do. We just had a basic intro to what is involved and it was LONG AND INVOLVED. And that was just processing the film. I don't know what it will be like to actually do the pictures.

Well, much as I'd like to procrastinate, I have a lot of homework to do before Moanday. I have another blog for classes (http://someosustudent.blogspot.com). If you're interested in what I'm doing there, take a look!

Ciao tutti!

Okay, so I just had to add this and post again. I think it accurately describes me (LOL):

The Exotic Lover 50% partner focus, 23% aggressiveness, 60% adventurousness

Based on the results of this test, it is highly likely that: You prefer your romance and love to wild and daring rather than typical or boring, you would rather be pursued than do the pursuing and, when it comes to physical love, you concentrate more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about your performance. This places you in the Lover Style of: The Exotic Lover. The Exotic Lover is a wonderful Lover Style, and conjures images of the exotic, romantic hero out of a romance novel, or perhaps a slightly dangerous and deadly sexy femme fatale from a noir mystery. The Exotic Lover loves pleasure and is a treasure to date, though it can be difficult to do so because they sometimes tend to be mysterious and reluctant to commit. In terms of physical love, the Exotic Lover can be quite surprising, as they are often more exciting and adventurous than predicted. Given a little freedom, and the right lover, the Exotic Lover can be a delight in bed. Best Compatibility can probably be found with: The Liberated Lover (most of all) or the Devoted Lover, or the Romantic Lover. Thanks Again! -- THE LOVER STYLE PROFILE TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 27% on partner focus You scored higher than 4% on aggressiveness You scored higher than 52% on adventurousness

Link: The Lover Style Profile Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid