Wednesday, January 23, 2002
"Come on be my baby tonight"
Why is the first entry always the hardest? I have written this 3 times and I am never happy with the words that spill out of my face. I find myself struggling to be cool or to be funny or come up with a theme, but instead I always end up sounding like a complete jackass. So now I just be me. And if you don't like it you can just leave.
NO! DON'T!
I really want you to stay.
Here is my brief introduction:
I am a born-again gay Christian who is an actor living in NYC. I have a boyfriend of 2 years named Paul and he lives in Boston. Currently I live with one beautiful and talented Rita Lovely and another girl who is also beautiful and talented, but her name is Kelly. I should also mention that I am one hot man-beast. I am also not your typical gay guy. I refuse to ever be the Will to your Grace. And I will never take you shopping for shoes or for that new shade of lipstick, just cuz I think that shit is lame. (Although I totally wish I had the money to buy myself a new pair of shoes and lipstick)
I work for a Jewish organization as an Administrative Assistant. As I said, I am not Jewish at all. I just like having a job. Unfortunately for me, I take pride in my work. And as anyone who has ever worked in an office setting (especially as an AA) knows, no one else takes as much pride in your work as you do. To be quick...I fucking hate my job and if one more person acts like the task I haven't gotten to yet is of the UTMOST importance, I will probably freak the fuck out and and shove white-out down their throat.
I have a brother who is moving to Germany for 3 years. He leaves in 2 weeks. I die inside when I think about it.
I have a mother and father who have been smoking for 25 years (me for 4), and I die inside when I think about them dying inside. I also have an estranged sister and a dog that was stung to death by bees in front of my face when I was 7. Oh the stories of life's trials are endless. And we all got em.
And lastly, but definitely most importantly, I am still a virgin. Long fucking story that I won't get into because I am hoping to be a non-virgin/slut by next week. Paul is coming and I think it is time. Poor kid has waited for 2 years on this...but there are valid reasons. Such as---put on a condem or no dick-in-the-ass for you.
That should be a good enough introduction for now.
Well I shouldn't forget the fact that I have a MAJOR bodybuilder fetish. HUGE, PUMPED, STRONG, MUSCLE turns me on in ways that nothing else could. And no, my boyfriend is not a bodybuilder. Life is just full of contridictions.
Right now I am at work. I am also annoyed as I possibly could be. Counting the minutes until I either go home or set the place ablaze. Yet, even if the place WAS burning down...it would be: "Joe, just get this last fax out before the building collapses".
I am just relieved to know that when I go home at the end of the day...I have a life and these fuckers have cats for husbands, social graces of cows, and a fetish for chocolate like I never knew was humanly possible.
Here is my slightly offensive, yet totally honest thought for the day, as though I haven't offended you already:
Rita and I were having a conversation recently that I think was very important to understanding the human condition.
We both divulged that we have a secret desire to be hit by some out of control car and laid up in a hospital for a couple of months. Cuz when this happens, everyone that loves you comes to visit you and babies you as though you are the only person on the earth. And that shit feels good. Balloons and presents and cards from people that just CAN'T believe that you are hurt.
Unfortunately, Rita and I also realized that these type of horrible fantasies never turn out the way you want them too. Instead of being hit by a car (that OF COURSE wouldn't damage my model-type face or give me any permanent physical damage) and being stuck in a hospital with TV and visitors, I would end up either losing both of my legs or with one eye that is perfect while the other eye that is sleeping permanently. Imagine a face with one eye sleeping and the other eye awake...that shit is scary! Hence, nothing ever works out well when you wish an ill-fate on yourself.
In conclusion...do not pray that you will be walking across the street and lucky enough to witness a suicide. Cuz as great as it would be to get out of work for a couple of days....odds are that you will re-live that image over and over until you accomplish the same fate.
WOW~! Some heavy shit for 12:00pm.
Why is the first entry always the hardest? I have written this 3 times and I am never happy with the words that spill out of my face. I find myself struggling to be cool or to be funny or come up with a theme, but instead I always end up sounding like a complete jackass. So now I just be me. And if you don't like it you can just leave.
NO! DON'T!
I really want you to stay.
Here is my brief introduction:
I am a born-again gay Christian who is an actor living in NYC. I have a boyfriend of 2 years named Paul and he lives in Boston. Currently I live with one beautiful and talented Rita Lovely and another girl who is also beautiful and talented, but her name is Kelly. I should also mention that I am one hot man-beast. I am also not your typical gay guy. I refuse to ever be the Will to your Grace. And I will never take you shopping for shoes or for that new shade of lipstick, just cuz I think that shit is lame. (Although I totally wish I had the money to buy myself a new pair of shoes and lipstick)
I work for a Jewish organization as an Administrative Assistant. As I said, I am not Jewish at all. I just like having a job. Unfortunately for me, I take pride in my work. And as anyone who has ever worked in an office setting (especially as an AA) knows, no one else takes as much pride in your work as you do. To be quick...I fucking hate my job and if one more person acts like the task I haven't gotten to yet is of the UTMOST importance, I will probably freak the fuck out and and shove white-out down their throat.
I have a brother who is moving to Germany for 3 years. He leaves in 2 weeks. I die inside when I think about it.
I have a mother and father who have been smoking for 25 years (me for 4), and I die inside when I think about them dying inside. I also have an estranged sister and a dog that was stung to death by bees in front of my face when I was 7. Oh the stories of life's trials are endless. And we all got em.
And lastly, but definitely most importantly, I am still a virgin. Long fucking story that I won't get into because I am hoping to be a non-virgin/slut by next week. Paul is coming and I think it is time. Poor kid has waited for 2 years on this...but there are valid reasons. Such as---put on a condem or no dick-in-the-ass for you.
That should be a good enough introduction for now.
Well I shouldn't forget the fact that I have a MAJOR bodybuilder fetish. HUGE, PUMPED, STRONG, MUSCLE turns me on in ways that nothing else could. And no, my boyfriend is not a bodybuilder. Life is just full of contridictions.
Right now I am at work. I am also annoyed as I possibly could be. Counting the minutes until I either go home or set the place ablaze. Yet, even if the place WAS burning down...it would be: "Joe, just get this last fax out before the building collapses".
I am just relieved to know that when I go home at the end of the day...I have a life and these fuckers have cats for husbands, social graces of cows, and a fetish for chocolate like I never knew was humanly possible.
Here is my slightly offensive, yet totally honest thought for the day, as though I haven't offended you already:
Rita and I were having a conversation recently that I think was very important to understanding the human condition.
We both divulged that we have a secret desire to be hit by some out of control car and laid up in a hospital for a couple of months. Cuz when this happens, everyone that loves you comes to visit you and babies you as though you are the only person on the earth. And that shit feels good. Balloons and presents and cards from people that just CAN'T believe that you are hurt.
Unfortunately, Rita and I also realized that these type of horrible fantasies never turn out the way you want them too. Instead of being hit by a car (that OF COURSE wouldn't damage my model-type face or give me any permanent physical damage) and being stuck in a hospital with TV and visitors, I would end up either losing both of my legs or with one eye that is perfect while the other eye that is sleeping permanently. Imagine a face with one eye sleeping and the other eye awake...that shit is scary! Hence, nothing ever works out well when you wish an ill-fate on yourself.
In conclusion...do not pray that you will be walking across the street and lucky enough to witness a suicide. Cuz as great as it would be to get out of work for a couple of days....odds are that you will re-live that image over and over until you accomplish the same fate.
WOW~! Some heavy shit for 12:00pm.
