Cut the Shit

Pretty nervous right now.

I have to leave work at 3:30pm today to get to my first audition ever in NYC! YIPES! It’s not going to be too difficult since I only have to do a “cold reading”. I don’t have to prepare a monologue or anything, so it’s not like I am actually performing for them. I anticipate that they will hand me a very generic paragraph of literature and I will have to read it with some sort of conviction. Sounds easy enough. What I am hoping is that I will walk in to the interview, they will see how devastatingly handsome I am, and offer to represent me right away. Now, wouldn’t THAT be great? I have been praying and praying all day that I will be able to relax in front of these people, that I will be able to be myself. I haven’t worked this long on a winning personality just to go in and act as though I am shy or that I possess no sense of humor. But sometimes I freeze up and let my nerves take over. In all honesty, if I take a huge dump before I go, I will most likely be fine. Most of my nerves come from my asshole anyway.

The other night when Paul and I were pseudo hooking up and watching television, we came across the strangest thing! A regular TV program came on, but it was engineered for the blind. The actors all said their lines as normal, but thrown in intermittently was a narrator that would start describing the scene as though we had both just lost our sight.
For example, if I was blind, this is what I would have heard:

Johnny: “Susan, I asked you to please pick up Daniel from school today. Where were you?”
Susan: “I forgot all about it! Work has had me swamped and I had no way…”
Johnny: “NO SUSAN! You have done this repeatedly in the past.”
Narrator: “Johnny picks up Daniel under his arms and places him on a chair in the kitchen.”
Susan: “Don’t yell at me. I support this household financially, so you should expect that sometimes you may have to go out of your way to help.”
Narrator: “Johnny shrugs his shoulders and turns his back to Susan.”
Susan: “Look at me when I am talking to you.”
Daniel: “Mommy, don’t yell at daddy!”
Susan: “Shut your fucking face Daniel. SHUT UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!”
Narrator: “Daniel begins to cry.”

Hahaha…ok, I started to get a bit carried away with the fake plot line I just created. But you see what I am talking about. It was so weird to sit there, pretend we were blind, and still know what was going on. I mean, to be honest, it wasn’t much fun and we only remained on the channel for a couple minutes. But how weird! I think Paul said it best when he said: “You know…if I was blind…I think I would give up television all together. There are other things that blind people can do for fun.” And you know what? There is. Like reading books. Well, Braile-ish books. I don’t know. Leave me alone.

My dad talked to my brother from Baghdad yesterday. My brother only had a few minutes to talk, but he let my dad know that he is safe and doing well so far. He feels confident about his training and according to my dad, was ready to complete the mission and get home as soon as possible. Gosh, it’s strange how much more I miss him now that I know he is in the desert and not sitting in his plush apartment. I mean, I’m still not going to see him any more than I would have if he was still on his Germany ARMY base, but just knowing that he was there and not holding an assault weapon in Iraq, made me feel like he was still close. And safe. But it will all be fine. Just gotta keep telling myself that. “Stay positive!” BTW…if one more person tells me to “stay positive”, I am going to punch them in their cunt.

I ate so healthy yesterday! I never eat breakfast, but yesterday I decided to start and with a banana. For lunch I had a salad and a yogurt. For dinner I had chicken breast and green beans! I was so proud of myself. But then I made the mistake of sharing a bottle of wine with Kelly and eating an entire loaf of garlic bread. Then I found some candy in my room and ate that too. Then I chewed some gum, cuz seriously…why was I ruining my whole health day by shoving candy down my gullet? I know why. Cuz I have a lazy eye. Ok, Sike no I don’t. (I forget that I can’t make those jokes, cuz no one on here knows if that is true or not)

Speaking of which…

When Rita came to visit, one of the first things she said was: “I thought I was going to have to talk to you about your eating habits cuz on your journal you say that you have gained so much weight. Joe, you look exactly the way you did when I left. Which is beautiful!” Ok, so I made up the last sentence. But it got me to thinking…does everyone that reads my journal think I am a huge beast? Cuz let me just clarify for everyone…when I say that I am “gaining weight” and that I am a “gigantic monster with blue cheese laden french fries hanging out of my mouth”, I am totally kidding. Well, not about the french fries. Those are hanging out of my mouth. But definitely about the “gigantic” part. I am pretty. Very pretty.
Alright, I hate what I have just written. It’s like trying to convince a deaf person that I play really beautiful music.

Ok, what is with me and the blind and deaf today? So sorry to offend anyone with these inflictions.
snores.

YIPES! Two more hours until my audition. Someone say a prayer for me! And if not, I’ll just say another one for myself.

I really hope this goes well.

Really hope.

Before I discuss the big thing I need to discuss, there are two things that I need to get off my chest immediately. I couldn’t possibly go forward with this entry without clearing my mind of these thoughts first.

1) Sometimes life is funny. Sometimes it is absurd. Sometimes Monica Lewinsky ends up as the host of a television show called Mr. Personality. Truth is, I hate every being of HER personality so much that I wish she was the one wearing a mask. I wish I didn’t even have to blog about her. She doesn’t deserve the space I have to offer. But after her ranting and raving on last night’s episode, I thought that it was only fair that I write a short paragraph about why she deserves to never EVER be on television again. First off, she sucks. Literally. Bitch is internationally known for having presidential jizz on both her mouth and her clothing. Whatever opinion anyone has on this subject, the truth remains…she is a worldwide jizz eater. Second, you have entertainment talent?? I mean WHAAA?? Most hosts of reality television have no talent as a rule, but Monica…Monica seriously shouldn’t even be allowed to get a headshot. Why WOULD SHE? She’s a jizz eater. Not an entertainer. Thirdly, as I sit and watch Monica Doublechinsky talk to the other members of the show, I am appalled at her lack of interesting things to say, but mostly at her lack of class when addressing the suitors. When one of the contestants quit due to the “pressure of the game” (FUCKING LAME!!), Monica FREAKS out and gives the whole group the most annoying and condescending lecture on being a “man”. “We have rules, people, and you must follow them. If you don’t want to be a part of this process anymore, be a MAN and wait until the selection has made.”
And lastly (fourthly), she takes herself so fucking seriously that I can’t possibly hold down my anger laden vomit. When she does anything, but stand there statuesque, I find myself scraping my fingers down the side of my face.
MY GOD I HATE THIS WOMAN. Mostly because…GET THE FUCK OFF THE TELEVISION! You aren’t an actress! You are someone who was made famous because of nonsense. Now wipe your mouth and go back to your cave.

2) I happened to catch the “E(!) True Hollywood Story” of my one and only love, Nell Carter, this weekend. Not much of the special shook me up, but then during the last two minutes of the show, they throw in a HUGE secret. Nell Carter is a lesbian? Lesbiawhaaaaaa??? WHO KNEW! Surely not me. And I AM a lesbian. I don’t get it. Why are some people tortured for their sexuality and some people are just left alone? Nell had a very difficult life and I am not saying that she should have been tortured. But how did it slip by me that she was lesbionic. I still sit here shocked and am a little upset that she didn’t tell me about it when she was still alive. Nellie…oh Nellie. Had I only known who you truly were when you were still alive. Sadness fills my heart.

Ok…I feel much better now. Is it wrong to say that I wish Nell Carter was alive right now instead of Monica Lewinsky?
Yes Joe. Yes, that is wrong to say.

Last night Paul and I did something that we haven’t done in months! We hooked up!
UM! I KNOW!

See, this is how it all went down…

Paul and I begin watching The Simpsons at 6:30pm. We are getting along wonderfully; laughing, hugging, playing “who can stand the longest pinch”. I called my “Pot Guy” because Paul was in the mood to smoke a fatty joint with me. I wasn’t much in the mood for getting the pot, but was trying to be as amiable as possible. As we were joking around, I happened to notice that he was sporting a pretty hefty boner. I thought “Now’s my chance. I can use this opportunity to get us over the weirdness of starting back in with our long lost physical relationship.” I gently began playing with his dick, wondering if he was going to pull away from me, as he does every time I begin to turn the moment sensual. It indeed was the right moment.

Here is what happened next:

Joe: (fingering the shaft of his cock) “Can I kiss you?”
Paul: “I don’t know if we should do this.”
Joe: “Can I kiss you?”
Paul: “Ok.”
Joe: (Begins to kiss Paul lightly on the lips, all the while playing with his cock and balls)
Paul: (Kisses back, but body language indicates that he is nervous and uncomfortable)

Eventually, the moment escalated to my kissing him down his chest, onto his stomach, and then to his boxer briefs. I begin nibbling on the outside of the cloth and he relaxed. He gave in to me. I stripped off his boxers and began giving him the most amazing blow job that I could give. He started breathing heavier and faster and I began going to town. I wasn’t at all worried about pleasing me. My hope was to get our relationship back on track. Having not been intimate with him over the last two-three months has certainly placed us in a very awkward position in our relationship. As I am about to get him off, the phone rings.

The “Pot Guy”.

I groan and pick up the phone and tell him where to meet up with me. Paul immediately stands up and says:

“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”

My jaw hit the floor. I stood there, not knowing whether to cry, or to punch him in the face. I slowly put on my shoes, grabbed the money, and head out the door. During the entire walk to and from meeting up with “Pot Guy”, I kept running his comments over and over in my head.

“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”
“Well that was that. And when you get back, I won’t be horny anymore. So we’re done for today.”

By the time I got back to the apartment, I was fuming angry. I walk in and sit down on his bed, next to him. I sit quietly staring at the television.

Paul: “What’s wrong?”
Joe: “Nothing’s wrong.”
Paul: “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Joe: “Paul, what do you THINK is bothering me?”
Paul: “Ok. I shouldn’t have said what I did before you left the apartment. It was wrong of me.”
Joe: “Yes it was wrong of you. I feel so embarrassed and betrayed by you. You are making no effort to improve this aspect of our relationship. At this point, we say we are “in love”, but if we don’t start “making love” soon, we are done. I am not going to spend my time trying to make my boyfriend want me when he has no interest in it.”
Paul: “I do want you. I just don’t know how to get back to the place that we were at before everything went wrong.”
Joe: “Everything didn’t go wrong. You just gave up. I am 25 years old Paul and I get hit on DAILY by people. Do you think that I have no libido at all and just don’t care about being intimate with people? Cuz if that’s what you think, then you are sorely mistaken. Paul…I am going to cheat on you. I am. We fix this or you come to grips with the fact that the next time an attractive male hits on me, which will be SOON, I am going to take him up on the offer, and I am not going to feel bad about it. I have tried with you over and over to help in whatever way I can. But it’s not working and all you do in reciprocation is shut me down and make me feel bad. I am done.”

Paul sits on the bed staring at me for awhile and eventually puts his hand on my leg.

Paul: “I want to work on this with you. I need to take this slow. I don’t want you to be with anyone else, but I don’t know if I can give you what you want right now.”
Joe: “As long as you understand the point I am trying to make.”

I laid next to him on the bed and we began to kiss and touch again. Our cocks sprang to attention and we cautiously played with each other’s members. (members = lame term for COCKS) As we began to hook up again, I felt him start to pull back.

Joe: “You said you wanted to take this slow, so let’s just each masturbate. We can do it together and we can make it casual and easy.”
Paul: “Ok. I would like to do that.”
Joe: “Can we kiss while we do it?”
Paul: “Yes.”

And that we did. We came together for the first time in months last night. He was very happy with the way things turned out and I pretended that I was to. When I was in the bathroom cleaning up, tears pricked at my eyes. I wasn’t as happy with the outcome as he was. It’s a first step and it will hopefully get better from here. But if it doesn’t… If it doesn’t, than Paul and I are going to have to have another talk about his willingness to participate in our relationship.

All in all, it was a step in the right direction.

Too bad Monica Lewinsky had to go and ruin everything when she showed her fat head on my television.

This is the IP Address of the pathetic loser that keeps leaving me obnoxious comments:

129.44.26.#
Also: Internet Explorer 5.22
Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 5.22; Mac_PowerPC)

This isn't the only computer he uses. I have the other IP addresses of the other computers/servers he uses too.
I have so much information on this kid, so please someone tell me how to use it! :-D
SOMEONE HELP ME DESTROY THIS FUCKER ONCE AND FOR ALL!

The Return of Joe CuttheShit!

I am lucky.

I am lucky to have such a wonderful family.
I am lucky to have friends that want nothing else than for me to be with them and be happy.
I am lucky to have a boyfriend that loves me more than he loves anyone else.
I am lucky to have a brother that makes me proud daily by doing the things I could never dream of doing.
I am lucky to be alive.

I have had a lot of time to think over the past two weeks. I spent numerous days in bed, staring at the wall. I spent hours on the phone with my parents assuring them that I am not going to kill myself. I saw Kelly’s show and I said goodbye to my brother. There were things that threatened to consume me, but I found a way to barrel through the way I felt. I sit here today, somewhat proud of how well I did and somewhat ashamed that I couldn’t do better. In either case, I am going to write off the last two weeks as a time in my life that I would rather forget. I am hoping to move on and to grow stronger within myself. I am hoping to take care of my depression now, so that I am not stuck in the midst of a crash again. I cringe at the thought of re-visiting last week.

The support I received from this website was overwhelming, to say the least. The fact that there are people in the world that would take time to send emails of encouragement, having never met me before, fills me with a restored faith in humanity. I want to thank everyone for taking the time out of their busy lives to make sure that I was doing alright. The few moments of happiness that I had over the last week was in direct relation to the support I received through my site. Thank you.

Now, onwards and upwards!

Over the last two weeks, Paul has become a boyfriend sent directly from Heaven. He has done all that is in his power to make me smile. I am more in love with Paul now than I ever have been and I feel blessed to have someone like him in my life. Last night, knowing that I said goodbye to my brother yesterday afternoon, Paul showed up at my apartment with a bouquet of flowers and some “take out” dinner. He was the one person that I wanted to see. His smile is so beautiful and when he walked through my door, it took all I had not to jump all over him. As we slept last night, I would wake up to find his arms holding me extra tight. If I moved to the end of the bed, Paul would move too and would rest his hand on my head. I woke up quite a few times to him running his fingers through my hair, or scratching my back with his hand. The tenderness in his touch was exactly what I needed.
I’m not so sure I needed the eight pounds of mashed potatoes that I shoved into my face before going to bed, but still…

The high in NYC today is 83. The sun is shining with full force and there is a light breeze in the air. For lunch I am going to sit in the park and read the newspaper. I am going to look at the river and allow myself to relax. I will take deep breaths of fresh air and then I will shove a cigarette between my lips to counterbalance the oxygen that I don’t deserve. I had originally planned on buying some fruit for lunch (yes, I know…Atkins doesn’t approve of fruit, but he’s dead now so I can have it) but now as my stomach churns and burns with massive hunger pangs, I think “Shit, roast beast sounds mighty good!” Like I would ever eat roast beast. Well, unless it was covered in cheese.

One time…

One time I was at the Warp Tour. Don’t ask me what the “Warp Tour” is if you have never heard of it. I think it’s like Ska bands or something. At the time of the concert, I was trying to be cool so I pretended like I was really into Ska. Now I don’t care and am pretty much proud of the fact that Celine Deon’s “I Drive All Night” is my new favorite song. In any case, while I was at the “Warp Tour”, I decided to grab a bite to eat. Kelly was there with me, as well as our friend, Slam. Yes. I know. But Slam is her real name.

So we go up to this food court type place and we look over the menu. It’s raining outside and everyone is kind of grumpy. There must be 15 people in line and no one is happy to be soaking wet. Suddenly we hear “SNOOPY WANTS FRIES!”
The loud voice made us jump out of our skins. We pressed forward in line with hopes of getting ourselves some fries too. Then again…loud and above all the other noise, we hear “SNOOPY WANTS FRIES!”…….“WITH CHEESE ON IT!” Now we burst out laughing, cuz “cheese on it” and we turn around and catch sight of the guy who is screaming things about “Snoopy”. Lo and behold, this crazy man, has a puppet of Snoopy on his hand and he is acting as though Snoops was really alive. “SNOOPY WANTS FRIES! WITH CHEEEEEEEEEEESE ON IT!”. As he moved closer to the counter, he would twist his wrist so that Snoopy would get more excited about the impending cheese fries. Snoopy had conversations with girls in the line and Snoopy was even holding a 5-dollar bill in his mouth. Probably hoping to pay for the food with his own money. All I remember after that is that Kelly, Slam and I laughed for years. Snoopy wants fries. With cheese on it. Gosh, sometimes you just want to pinch your tits and make sure you are not sleeping…life is too funny.

I have a bruise on my left arm the size of a half dollar bill. Numerous people have asked me what it is from and I honestly don’t know. It just kind of appeared. What I didn’t tell anybody is that last night I laid in bed for 10 minutes convincing myself that it was a lesion. My heart started to pound in my chest and instead of worrying about my health, I thought “What am I possibly going to tell my parents!” I guess that’s a normal reaction, but I think that at some point, I gotta stop worrying so much about mom and dad. They have their own lives afterall and all they want is for me to have the same. Interesting dilemma.
Dilemma = Kelly Rowlands and Nelly.
Boo.

AUDI.
Peace.

Depression.

Webster's Dictionary defines depression as: A psychiatric disorder characterized by an inability to concentrate, insomnia, loss of appetite, anhedonia, feelings of extreme sadness, guilt, helplessness and hopelessness, and thoughts of death. Also called clinical depression.

I define it as (and I wrote this before looking up the literal definition. Scary right?): Having zero control over personal happiness. Can't fulfill daily responsibilities or personal activities due to the extreme feeling of sadness. There tends to be no specific cause for this type of emotion. See also helplessness and hopelessness.

I have struggled with "depression" since I was a senior in highschool.

I remember going through pathetic bouts of anorexia, bullimia and the lame old "burning myself with cigarettes" before I realized that putting the pain onto my body wasn't in any way taking away the feeling I was struggling with inside. I went to counselors, psychiatrists, through 6 months of St. John's Wart, and through 9 months of Prozac. Then I thought the problem could be my latent homosexuality, so I came out of the closet. But then I thought that being an "Education Major" in college was it, so I changed my major to "Theater".

After switching my major, I took myself off the medicine cuz I found that it was only making me crazier on the inside. Rather than try a new form of anti-depressant, I chose to control my own life free of psychiatric drugs. For two years it worked beautifully. I remember being on the phone with my mom during one weekday afternoon and she asked "How do you feel today?". I responded "Better than I have ever felt in my life. Finding my passion in theater has changed my world for the positive." I was legitimately happy.

Once out of college, I moved to Boston in order to work on my first "true love" relationship with Paul. Over that year I had ups and downs, but was for the most part, still happy. As time went on, as I moved to NYC in search of my dream, I lost every bit of confidence and control that I worked so hard to build. I used to look in the mirror and love what I saw. I used to go through my day awake and alert having slept only 5 hours the night before. I was busy and I was happy. NYC presented challenges to me that I was not ready to face.

I was the big fish in a little pond at college. I owned the theater department. In the matter of a year and a half I got the grades, the roles, the responsibility, and the respect that I have always wanted. Everyone wanted to be my friend and everyone looked up to me in a way that now seems impossible. Every professor at school told me "Enjoy this now because NYC will be a much bigger pond". I would laugh it off and say "Yeah I know".

But only now do I really know.

I went from a place where I was the king to a place where I have 5 friends. Literally 5(!) friends. I have spent two years in this gigantic city and have nothing social to show for it. I don't go to great parties. I don't have celebrity encounters. I don't EVER get to wear a tie. My life is filled with random nights of drinking, movie watching, staring at the wall. I am afraid to step out of my house. Because my financial situation is so tight, I haven't had a new piece of clothing since Christmas. I used to have great clothes. I use to feel wonderful and powerful. And now I have been reduced to this paranoid, insecure, child that can't seem to get dressed in the morning and do something as simple as go to work.

I am sad. So sad.

I have tried over and over throughout the last couple of years to blame my sadness on other things. Most recent being my brother's upcoming depolyment to Iraq. But in the past it was the long distance with my boyfriend. It was the apartment in Queens. It was anything I could put blame on so that my sadness was justified. It is impossible for me to look at myself and be proud of where I am. As has been told to me over and over, I have a "great apartment, financial stability, a successful relationship, wonderful friends, a family that adores and loves me". But I look at all of this and think so what? It seems so easy. Like something anybody could do. I haven't WORKED to have all of this. It's just what happened while I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself.

Most people don't truly understand what depression is like.

From what I can tell, the general public falls into these categories:

1) Everyone gets depressed

This is the most common of responses. These people truly believe that people with depression are lazy and in need of attention. In their minds, depression happens to everyone and you just gotta dust yourself off and move on. When I discuss depression with these type of people, I am mostly left with a feeling of confusion. These people tend to be closed minded and also believe that homosexuality, as with depression, is a state of mind. Case in point. Their team slogan would be: "STOP MAKING EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU!"

2) I get depressed too

I feel bad for these people. They don't mean it. They just need someone to talk to. And as someone who struggles with a deep form of depression, I have a hard time being the support system for these type of people. Of course I'll do it as I have a soft spot for anyone in emotional trouble. But I can't be THE support system. The one that makes it all better. I hide from that. I am scared by that need in other people. In my opinion, these people go through depression for a specific reason. IE: miscarriage, death in the family, losing an eye in an accident involving jism. (i had to throw a joke in this entry somewhere!) These people get a taste of what depression is, but usually end up okay. They are lucky enough to see the horrors of it, but strong enough to break free of it. They will never return to this state of mind, because it scares them too deeply.

3) I am bi-polar, manic, suicidal, crazy depressed

These people make me look the other way the minute I cross their paths. Truth be told, these are the most interesting and wonderful people on the planet. Experiencing their highs with them is like being on planet fun. They are constantly making jokes, ready to do wild and spontaneious things, and more than ready to make you have a good time. But as with the law of gravity, what goes up, must come down. Their lows are terrifying. These are the people that really do burn and cut themselves. A person with these type of disorders will call you to tell you that they are taking a bottle of pills to end their life and by the time you get to them, they have actually done it. They want to be helped, but they can't figure out how to ask. How to make anyone truly understand. I used to be incredibly good friends with someone who was manic. For a long time, she was the only support to my depression that I could accept. She understood me. She knew what to do to make us feel better. She was my mentor. But when I got better and she didn't, she grasped on to me with desperation. I realized that to be better I needed to be away from her and she realized that she needed me to feel the same way that she did. I turned my back and left her. And I will never forgive myself for that. But like I said, these people are intense and if you aren't completely balanced, it's almost impossible to have a successful relationship with them.

4) I love you so much and would do anything to make this better for you

These people tend to be best friends, family, boyfriend-girlfriends. The amount of love and frustration that comes out of these people is mindblowing. My parents want nothing more than for me to be happy. When I had my first depression crash in college, they drove up to get me and brought me home to make me better. They paid for doctor's, counselors, medicines, you name it. They follow my rules and do whatever they can to not shake me up, but still find a way to let me know that they are always there. My friends are this way with me too. Always available and always willing to extend a hand of support. The only problem with these type of people is that they are the last people you want to go to in the midst of a depression crisis. They know you and will make you tell them exactly how you feel. When I am having a day where I am teetering on the edge of sanity or madness, I hide from these people cuz they will push me into the madness unknowingly. "How are you feeling today?" "You don't seem like youself." "Do you want to talk about anything?" While I am so grateful to have them actually asking, I rarely take them up on the offer. I feel guilty telling these people that I am "just going to bed". I feel terrible saying "Sorry I didn't call, I was having a 'down day'". These people love me so much that I feel hurt by not allowing them to make this all better. I don't know how to let them in.

5) I love you, but can't accept the fact that you are depressed

For me, this person is Paul. Paul has such influence on me that he believes that he can single handedly put me back together. He has expectations of me that I must fulfill and if I don't he is unaccepting of the depression excuse. He is a combination of numbers 2 and 4. He gets sad too and will force himself to get out of it. If I am sad, he assumes that I will just do the same thing. For me, he is the one person I want to be around when I am depressed. I can scream at him, cry in front of him, and be silent in front of him. He doesn't cut me any slack and for right now, I like that. He gets me out of the house and he puts my mind on other things. When people are in AA, they need a partner to help them get through it. I feel that it's the same method that people with depression should use. My partner is Paul. Most times he doesn't truly understand how I feel, but regardless, he will get me through my day. Unfortunately, when things go wrong, I blame Paul. I trust in him and I rely on him, so when things crash down in my life, I expect Paul to make it better. He is the one forcing me to live my life afterall. Paul needs to become a little more of number 4 and I think that I could begin taking some major steps. These type of people are the ones that people with depression need around. They are the ones to get you back into your routine.

This is the world around me.

Over the last couple of days, I have dissected what I really need to do to become better.

A) (we use letters now) I need to start acting. An audition here or there. It will help me to feel like I have a purpose. I can't put all of my hopes on acting, but I have to at least begin to do what I came to this city to do. My mom said today that if I don't go to this pending audition that I have on Saturday, she will ground me. "Joe, if anything else, do this for your mother". And she's right. I will do it for her. Cuz I can't seem to do it for myself.

B) I need a counselor. Since leaving college I have had two sessions with a psychiatrist. I am the first person to tell you that you need one, but am the last person to take the advice myself. I can't afford the counselor that I want and haven't had the drive to find someone for cheap. It's as though I need someone to do it for me. I will go...I just don't want to find the person myself. Talking to someone, whether it be once a week, or once a month, will give me hope that I am getting better. That I am doing what I need to be doing for the disease that I have. It will be accepting the fact that I am depressed and that I can't do it by myself.

C) I need to go to the doctor's. I need a check up. I need to know that everything is ok with my body and that I don't have lung cancer or something. Everyone has these thoughts, but not everyone stays in bed all day obsessing about each cigarette because they are SURE that they have already crossed the point of getting the cancer. I need to know that I am ok. While there, I need to discuss the option of going back on an anti-depressent. I have been doing my research and I think that "Welbutrin" will be the way to go. It has a supplement in it that aids with quitting smoking. If I go on Welbutrin AND I quit smoking, I am taking steps towards truly healing myself. It seems like an impossibility, but I know that if I make the effort, I can achieve it.

So that's it.

I wrote all of this, cuz I needed to get it all out. I needed to write it and see it and read it as though it were all real and not just something that I am making up in my head. My dad just called to check up on me and it was a really good talk. People do love me and are only frustrated with me because they want to do for me what I can't seem to do for myself. If you are someone that is hurt by me because I haven't "showed up" or I haven't made any effort to see you when I said I would, understand that it's not you. It's me and I haven't figured out how to be myself yet. I always feel like I am letting people down because they just don't understand that I have no control.

Sadness is something that happens to everyone and I don't ever expect not to be sad. But I can't expect other people to make this better for me. I can't expect other people to take my sadness away. The answer doesn't lie anywhere, but in my heart.

I have two choices. I can either let this thing control me or I can make every effort possible to control it. The last thing I want is to let it beat me. I am a strong person. I am a capable person. I want to be someone that everyone else aspires to be. I used to be that be that person. And if I try hard enough, I can make it happen again.

TGIW!
Sike.

First and foremost, I have to get something off my chest.

Last night, I slept like a fucking rock. I didn’t wake up once during the night and I had the deepest and most powerful sleep. Sometime before I woke up, I had the most upsetting dream. It started out completely normal, but then ended in such a way that even though it has been a good 3 hours since I woke up, I still have the feelings of anxiety and sadness coursing through my veins.

Here’s my dream:

I am hanging out with some friends at a house in upstate New York. We are all sitting around in a living room area playing cards and listening to music. Some of the people are drinking beer, but I am feeling tired and not in the mood to drink. Eventually, the craziness of the drunken people starts to get to me, so I decide that I am going to take a quick nap. At this point, it must be around 2pm. The sun is shining through the windows and the room is very brightly lit, despite the cloud of smoke that is hovering in the air from all of the cigarette smokers. I pick up my soda from the room and put my own cigarettes into my pocket. I tell everyone that I will “be back” and I head up the stairs to a bedroom at the far end of the house.

I enter through the door and immediately smell fresh linen.

I set my soda and cigarettes on the bedside table and I take off my shoes. I feel good. I feel happy to be taking a nap. I feel exhausted and immediately lay down on the bed. As I lay there, I have a hard time falling to sleep. I try to get as deep into the covers as possible, but no matter how much I toss and turn, I can’t fall asleep. I decide to sit up and smoke a cigarette in order to relax myself. I lean over and turn on the television and light up my butt. When the TV turns on, one of the news stations is broadcasting a shuttle landing in St. Louis. There is a picture of the Arches and a crowd of at least a couple thousand people standing behind them watching the spectacle. There are cameramen, signs with words of support, and families screaming and cheering at the excitement of watching the shuttle return from space.

The camera zooms in on a figure in the distance and although I can’t make out the exact shape of the shuttle, I can feel the energy in the crowd start to pick up. After a couple minutes, the camera pans back to its position behind the crowd of people. It was quite a beautiful scene. There were people eating ice cream and hot dogs. I remember seeing balloons and happy faces and feeling the excitement from the crowd as the cheering grew louder. The camera switches angles again and now we can see the shuttle moving closer to the landing spot. We, the people at the site and me through the television, watch the shuttle moving faster and faster, almost in clear view. The cheering of the crowd escalates to a moment of surrealism and then the unthinkable happens.

The shuttle picks up even more speed and instead of moving towards the pre-determined landing site, it flies off course and smashes right down in front of the St. Louis Arches. The crowd has no idea what has happened and immediately people start screaming, grabbing their children and running as fast as they can away from the crash. The crowd is so thick with people that I can see families being knocked to the ground and trampled. The cameraman, despite the chaos, moves in closer to the crowd and through the arches, I can see the burning shuttle. There is a sudden explosion causing debris and flames to shoot out of the center of the shuttle. Like in the climactic scene of a disaster movie, the top half of the arches split in half and tip over on to the remaining people in the crowd. I see men and women alike raise their arms up in a futile attempt to stop the concrete from crushing their bodies. The concrete hits the ground with a SLAM and everyone that was previously standing under the structure has been buried.

The camera, through which I am watching all of this devastation occur, shakes uncontrollably and when re-focused I see that we are now panning over the rubble. Screams still fill the air and now I can hear sirens and see a fire hose open up over the burning wreckage. The cameraman moves closer to the destroyed arches. There are people all around him trying to save their loved ones or to put out the flames that are spreading all over the area. In the midst of all of this chaos, someone shouts into the camera “MOVE! IT’S GOING TO FALL!” The camera jerks violently towards the sky. A huge piece of the Arch breaks off the top of the remaining structure and hurtles towards the lens of the camera. I watch as the lens and TV screen is filled with a picture of falling concrete. There is a loud crash and the picture cuts out.

I sit shaking in bed. I feel as though my guts have been torn out. I stand up quickly and run out of the room. I run as fast as I can to get back to the people that I left at the party. When I enter the room, I realize that there is no noise, no music, and none of my friends. I see a piece of paper tacked to the door. On it the words read:

“Went to see the shuttle land at the Arches. Help yourself to a beer. Be back later.”

In the pit of my stomach, I know that all of my friends have been killed in the tragedy. The fear and grief that I feel begins to overwhelm me. The room starts to get very dark, as though somebody was playing with a dimmer switch that is connected to my vision. I fall to my knees and wake up in my bed with a jolt.

I woke up covered in sweat. I immediately sat up and realized that I was shaking uncontrollably. I reach over to light my morning cigarette. I sat in bed for 15 minutes running the dream over and over in my head. The emotion I was feeling was very intense and I did my best to shake it off. I got into the shower and got dressed, the whole time trying to convince myself that it was just a bad dream. This tragedy never happened and nobody died. But how scary that life can change over the course of a couple minutes.

I don’t think I started believing that it wasn’t real until I got to work.

Even as I write this, I still feel a bit shaky. Dreams that are that realistic stay with me for a long time. I can remember it all as though it truly happened. And it’s scary.

SO that’s that. Kind of a rough morning.

In other news, Rita gets into town tomorrow morning. I get out of work today at 1pm and will not be returning until Monday at 9am. Tonight is Paul and my “Date Night” and since I have not seen him since last Saturday, it is sure to be a great time. I can’t wait to crawl into bed with him. I miss him incredibly and need to spend some serious alone time with him before the weekend extravaganza begins.

YAY RITA! YAY WEEKEND! YAY YAY!

Happy Passover all!

Chag Sameach or some shit.

It is SO rare for me to have a hot guy in my office and right now that very thing is happening. I walked in from lunch to find the most beautiful man sitting in the couch in front of my desk. It’s weird, I mostly go for big muscle studs, but once in a while a bigger-ish kind of guy can walk in and just sort of sweep me off my feet with their pulsing masculinity. He is wearing a black t-shirt and blue navy shorts and he is a bit hairy. He is also wearing a dark blue baseball cap (which always gets my jizz flowing). I just found out that his name is Mark. LOVE that name. Okay, he just made eye contact with me and I swear that my entire body just melted onto the floor. Man, he is so fine. I can tell that through the T-shirt that he has a beautiful body and the way he carries it is making me die with lust.

I do have a boyfriend, right?

Mark is now walking out and of course my eyes followed him right up until he left the office.

Sometimes I have game. Most times I have game. But when I really want a guy, when I am really turned on by a guy, I lose every skill I was given. Rita used to make fun of me about this cuz she has seen me lose my shit over boys before. It’s rare, but when it happens, I become this child-like creature that is helpless and in dire need of approval.

I love you Mark. I know we have only known each other for 5 minutes, but let me tell you, it was the best five minutes of my day so far.

**BIG SIGH**

Well the Atkins Diet thing worked really well! You should see how much weight I have lost in the last 24 hours. I’m like a brand new man. Considering this, I am done with it. I thought I could keep it going strong until at least Thursday, but nah. I’m bored by it already. I am still going to change my eating habits so that I am consuming a lot LESS carbs and I am still going grocery shopping tonight to get some healthy shit up in my pad. But Dr. Atkins is a bitch and I am not really in the mood for him anymore. So we’ll see…

I have decided that I absolutely adore the TV show Scrubs. At first I thought it was silly. (Like I ever use the word “silly”. As a gay man, I’m just not allowed.) But over the last two weeks, I have started to believe in it as a brilliant and smart comedy. It makes me howl with laughter. Last week, they did the most unbelievable thing. There was a scene where all of the doctor’s were sitting around at a lecture and the lead doctor guy interrupts the person speaking by saying “SNORE”. Paul happened to be watching the show with me that night and we both burst out laughing and freaked! He used MY LINE on a TV show. Isn’t it strange when you come up with a saying and then hear people use it on TV? Cuz no WAY did the Scrubs writers actually create that phrase. Clearly, I passed it on to Rita and Kelly, who in turn passed it on to people they know and so on and so forth. Man! I am so glad that my comedic genius is finally getting the attention it deserves.

In all reality, hearing my pride and joy phrase “SNORE”, on a major network, just led me to believe that I am even more generic than I originally thought.

Now I hate Scrubs. No one watch it.

So, RITA is coming to NYC! It will be a very short visit, but at least I am going to be able to spend some real time with her. I was afraid that we weren’t going to be able to work out the visit this week and that would have sucked big time. Sometimes you just need a quick fix. Like, for example, when you sniff glue. Sniffing glue is, well, I guess, no, actually it has nothing to do with sniffing glue. Never mind.

Yay Rita’s coming!

Just a quickie…can someone please explain to me why last week in NYC we had a foot of snow and exactly one week later, it is a blazing inferno? Is it because everyone missed the “connect the dot” zits that appear on my forehead when the subways become an oven? Because soon enough, they will be in full bloom! I love this weather, but hate the fact that I become this sweaty, slimy, scary beast that trudges through the subway as though I am looking for a meal made of flesh.

I don’t know about you, but if you don’t watch the “Real World/Road World Battle of the Seasons”, you are missing out! The shit is gooood. So much better than that lame ass “Las Vegas” garbage they had going. I happened to catch that new show Punk’d last night and saw that one of the people that they were playing the pranks on was Trishelle from the most recent Real World. I started SCREAMING at the television when I saw this nonsense. Don’t tell me that this lame bitch thinks that she is some sort of a STAR now. Every single one of those “Vegas” Real Worlders better fade into the background and fast. I curse their very existence.

CURSE!

Haven’t seen Paul since Saturday night and don’t plan on seeing him again until our “Date Night” tomorrow. Since I just got paid today, it is my turn to take us out to dinner. He pays for the meal every single week and now I have to fork over a few bones to kind of make up for my “I eat everything I want and for free” attitude. I am pretty sure that we are going to go out near my apartment in Midtown, but finding an affordable place to eat there is difficult. And hells if I have any chance at finding a GAY restaurant, which he considers a necessity. Honestly though Paul, grow up and learn to accept the fact that straight people are all around us. Sometimes they even have good food too. So we will, against his whining and complaining, be eating straight cuisine. I’m thinking a diner of some sort. This bitch don’t got enough money for us to eat in a restaurant that sells wine. Only soda and milkshakes.

Time for lunch! Oh God, what do I have to eat?

I heard pizza is good this time of year. Maybe I’ll go check it out and see what all the fuss is about. I mean, pizza. What a strange concept. I’ve never had it before.

Sounds yum, no?

Oh YAY it’s MONDAY! My most favoritest day of the fucking week god I hate you fucking Mondays.

Really shouldn’t complain since this week I have off most of Wed. and all of Thursday and Friday. But MAN if Monday still doesn’t suck my twat.

Had a fine weekend. Friday was spent fully drunk. Got home from work at 2:30pm and drank until 2:30am. It was seriously fun. Hung out with Kelly and her theater friends for a bit and then we went over to Paul’s pad and hung with him and Jen for awhile. We went to a bar and I was confronted with the “no-smoking” ban for the first time since it’s conception. Man, let me tell you, this law sucks my cock. In the two hours we were there, I went outside to have two smokes, but NEEDED to have at least 5. It made me furious not to be able to light up. But I obeyed the laws of the “man” and tried to pretend as though I am not as addicted as I really am. God this new law blows a dickhead!

Didn’t do much else for the rest of the weekend. Truly believed that I was starting up the Atkins diet today, so whether hungry or not, I went through my house and shoved every carbohydrate into my body. I ate almost every bite of my groceries. Tomorrow I FINALLY get paid at work, so I will immediately be going to the grocery store to buy tons of vegetables, meat, and eggs. I have spent the last hour researching this diet plan online and have to admit that it looks MUCH harder than I originally planned. You aren’t allowed to have any sugar, carbs, milk, or anything else that tastes great. Thing is, when I want to, I can be overly committed to anything I set my mind to. And I also think I should clarify something as well…

I am not doing Atkins because I am obese. I am not doing Atkins cuz I need to lose massive amounts of weight. I don’t seriously weigh enough for anyone to throw mud at me or poke my fat rolls in a cruelly obscene manner. What I want to do is change my eating habits. All I eat right now is cheeseburgers, pizza, and french fries, so it’s time that I start eating a lot more vegetables and a lot less carb. infested food. That’s why I thought that Atkins would be perfect! And so far it is. (Cept I have yet to eat anything today so I really can’t speak from experience just yet.) I need protein and I need some organic, straight from the earth nutrition. And that’s that. So, let’s see what I can do with this new eating regimen.

As for Dr. Atkins telling me that I can’t drink booze while on his diet plan, I say “Go fuck yourself”. Drinking is a must in ANY diet plan that Joe Cut the Shit does, so don’t worry…I am not taking myself TOO seriously.

Still not sure if Rita is coming to NYC this weekend or if I am going to Syracuse to see her. Will know by the end of today or tomorrow, I hope!

Had a good talk with my brother this morning, but I found that I had nothing to say. I kept thinking that I SHOULD have something to say, considering that in two weeks he will be leaving for Iraq for at least 6 months, but still…found myself blank. I tried not to lead on that I was braindead while we were on the phone and I am pretty sure he bought it for the most part. Mondays are hard for me to talk to anyone on the phone. Especially in the morning. My mind is always full of work-related things I need to do, and my co-workers seem to be excruciatingly annoying when I first walk in the office. But by 12pm, or so, things begin to settle down and I can get back to my usual routine of “Work hard for half an hour, Take a half an hour off”.

Winfield did let me know that he ships out on April 26th. A week from Saturday. Wow. He will be going to Lower Iraq, most likely in or around Basra. But that’s all we are allowed to know at this point. I don’t feel nearly as petrified as I did a couple of weeks ago. The war is starting to come to a close, you know? Yet, I am still nervous and feel as though I will carry underlying anxiety about this whole thing until he returns safe and sound. Naturally. Every email and phone call from him, while he is gone, is going to be so important though. NO matter how little I have to say on those days, I HAVE to come up with something to talk about.

MAN! Why am I such a schizo weirdo?!?! Can’t I just think normally like most people?? Why do I have to sit here and worry about what I am goi-

Ok, so done with that topic.

Next…

Did NOT see House of 1000 Corpses this weekend. Kelly totally would have gone with me, cept I made the decision to stay in my bed ALL day yesterday and could not be bothered with leaving to go 3 blocks to the theater. She came home with snacks and we curled up on my bed and watched Signs together. I just got the DVD from my mom, cept it seems to be all scratched up and we ended up having to order it from “Videos on Demand” through Time Warner. Whatever snores, the movie was great the 7th time I saw it and Kelly really liked it too. It’s a winner folks. If you haven’t seen it yet, go see it today. And if you didn’t like it, what kind of alien are YOU!?!?
This morning, though, I heard a review of …Corpses on the radio and they said that it is absolute “Carnage” and “nothing more than brutal murders”. And I say to that YAY! That’s EXACTLY what I was going to see it for! I love being a sick bastard. So THIS weekend I must see it. Must Must Must! Or like the Willard scandal of March, it will be pulled from the theater within the first 3 weeks. And that movie was good! (shifty eyed emoticon)

I just sat staring at my computer for at least 5 minutes without blinking or thinking a single real thought. No joke.
I think I could be a literal vegetable today. Maybe it’s cuz of the pending Atkins diet. Maybe you really are what you eat and my brain is turning into a mushy vegetable. Gosh, that’s interesting. Was I a french fry up until this point?? Well, yeah. Yeah I was. I never KNEW there was so much truth behind that little colloquialism.

Alright, time for lunch. I am very excited to eat a famous actor. For OBVIOUS reasons!

Today is the ugliest day on the planet.

Since I am one of the idiot boys that loses my umbrella every time it rains, I have given up buying a new one. I brave every storm and run my ass to my destination. But today…today I punched myself in the face for not having one. My short walk to the subway left me drenched to the bone. And this wasn’t even the worst of it.

My shower at home is so trigger sensitive that it takes at least 5 minutes for the water to be safe for skin. It either boils and scalds or it freezes and tortures. Today it was a combination of all four as I played with it for 10 minutes before Paul and I could get into it. We both were running late and trying to maneuver our bodies in my shower was totally fruitless. Eventually we completed the annoying task of cleaning our bodies and were able to get ready for work.

When I realized that there was a torrential downpour, I definitely debated whether or not to even attempt commuting to work on the subway. If I didn’t have just $13 left in my checking account, I would have cabbed it. But since that is where my funds are at until my next paycheck (this upcoming Tuesday), I just said “fuck it” and looked the storm in the face. Fortunately, the gel in my hair was still drying when I walked to the subway, so I was VERY excited to see what all of this wetness was going to do to my hairstyle. When I got to work, I stopped off in the bathroom to see the damage. Just like I had hoped, the entire back of my head is sticking straight up to the ceiling and the front half is plastered to my forehead. If you stop for a second and imagine this image, you will realize that I am one of the doofiest looking people that was ever born. Rain, rain, go away, find someone else to fuck today.

Despite this morning from HELL, I am in a slamming good mood. Had a brief, but GREAT talk with my Rita and was VERY excited to find out that she just nabbed herself a wonderful new job. AND they are paying for her to go to GRAD. SCHOOL! YAY! Sounds like things are REALLY on the up and up for her. I mean, damn. You do not know the happiness I feel in my heart when things go right for Rita Lovely. To top off all of this good news, she informed me that she is going to try to come to visit next week! When she mentioned the idea, I immediately shot my load into my pants and had to get off the phone. I ran to the bathroom to find that there was no toilet paper in any of the stalls, so I had to wipe the jizz right on the bathroom wall. I ran away in shame.

So yay! Rita is coming, Rita is coming! And if she doesn’t, I am going to visit her. End of story. Not another week without seeing her. It’s like my birthday and Christmas all wrapped up into one! (sound familiar Reets?)

This weekend I plan to spend the entire time wasted. You see, I haven’t gotten drunk in like the longest time. Back before I moved to Times Square, I was drinking like 4 or 5 nights a week. But since the move, I have avoided it all together. But this weekend…this weekend I am doing it up! Leaving work today to meet up with Paul for happy hour. It will be an early night as he as to work a double tomorrow. Saturday evening I am going out with some lesbians and that’s only fun, cuz I have nothing better to do. Kelly may join us later and that will pick up my mood, I’m sure. Other than that, it will be a weekend of rest, food, and reading my book. FUN!

On Monday I am starting Atkins. I know, I know, everyone has an opinion about it. And frankly…shhhhhh. I don’t want to hear it. My goal is to give my body a jump-start. I don’t do any diet for too long, but if this Atkins is going to get me losing a couple pounds around my gut, then great! Once I see my body start to change a bit, I will get motivated to really get my ass into some serious shape. I don’t have that much work to do. It’s not like I am starting out at 300#. At this point, I am 5”9 and 175#. Not bad. Actually, to look at me, you wouldn’t ever think of fat or overweight as an adjective to describe me. It’s just that I want to have one of those bodies that stop people in their tracks. If I ever decide to get off my ass and be an actor, I want to be able to pull my shirt off and have the world begging to sleep with me. You understand. We all understand. So Monday, I start Atkins. (Hush Jeannie, I can feel you struggling to hold back the advice!)

Paul and I had another great night last night. Made dinner, laughed and laughed, all around super evening. We went to bed EARLY. I was passed out by 11:30pm and same for him. We slept for 9 hours last night! We even woke up a bit earlier than usual today and talked in bed. We NEVER do that. I always have to leave before he does and this morning we got to laugh and play for at least 15 minutes before I had to get out of bed. Sick…we are becoming so lovey dovey and I know that for anyone reading this, that is irritating as fuck. But, truth be told, still haven’t had his dick in my mouth for over 3 months. Although we are having the time of our lives together, we still don’t do anything remotely erotic. Snores. I don’t care. Or at least, I don’t want to care about it right now.

In too good of a mood…

Thank God this week is over. My job has driven me up a fucking wall this week. Probably because I knew going into Monday that this would be the last full week of work I would have until May. With Passover coming, we get off 2 and half days each week until April 28th. Pretty fucking great to work for the Jewish, but not be one yourself. Lots of time off. :-D

My one goal this weekend is to see House of 1000 Corpses. If Paul doesn’t go with me, I am totally dragging Kelly to it. We usually go to movies on Sundays in honor of our newly created “Super Scary Sinema Sunday”. We missed last week due to us both having other plans.

Okay, I so have to go right now. I will try to come by here this weekend. I always say that and then end up with my dick in my hands all the weekend. But this entry was so rushed and ridiculous that I think I owe it to myself to write something more readable and interesting.

aRdios!

Last night with Paul was great. We have totally fallen into this new routine. I go over to his place right after work and we sit and talk about our days for a few minutes. Usually at this point, he is in bed, naked, trying to coerce me into taking a brief nap with him before we go out for the evening. I always say “no” to the nap, knowing that I will never get back out of the bed. After we wrestle around for a couple minutes, I make him give me at least 3 baby kisses on the mouth (still haven’t worked up to tongue kisses since the whole “Paul won’t touch Joe” scandal of 2003). After this, he gets dressed and we smoke a bowl while picking out a few different places for dinner. I always let him pick a couple different restaurants and then I make the final decision. Of course, he always wants to go “gay friendly” and that bores me, but as of late, I have tried to compromise and have stopped bitching about it.

About this time, The Simpsons comes on and we watch it for its’ full syndicated hour. This show is one of the few obsessions that Paul and I have in common. Rarely a night goes by when we miss the show. One of last night’s episodes was about “Income taxes” and we both agreed that they should have shown this episode on April 15th. Not the 9th.
Well, at the time it seemed like an interesting discussion.

By 7:30pm, the two episodes are over and we have decided where we will go to dinner. Last night, it was “Brunettas” in the East Village. We finished getting ready and were off. Paul likes to walk around aimlessly in the village and I have a HUGE pet peeve about walking anywhere without a prior destination already planned out. If I were a Playboy playmate (which I very well might be some day) I would list one of my turn-offs as “Long walks with no purpose”.

Last night Paul promised that we could go directly to the restaurant without having to walk around for 45 minutes. Instead, he made us stop and look at every plant that was growing on the sidewalk. You see, Paul is obsessed with biology. His major at Boston University was Bio and he lives his life in front of his plants. As of right now, he must have 18 plants in his living room. I tell him that he is not allowed to buy anymore, cuz I feel as though they are looking at me while I sleep. There’s just too many of them for my tastes. Too much of anything gets a little scary.

So, after taking inventory of every new weed that has grown in the last day, Paul and I arrived at “Brunettas”. The place was EMPTY and looked vaguely like a cafeteria. I turn to him and go “I’ll have the sloppy joes. And make em EXTRA SLOPPY FOR ME!” He grinned and we took our seats at a table near the front. Paul ordered a glass of Merlot and I stuck with my glass of water, instead of my usual diet coke. For appetizers we ordered Caesar Salad, Hot Parmesan Pesto bread, and a fritter. We sucked them down in 4 bites. (Keep in mind that we were stoned and food goes down much tastier and can be shoved in like animals)

For dinner, I had the “Chicken ‘Brunetta’” and Paul had the Risotto, due to me telling him to try something new. My chicken was covered in cheese and egg and despite the soggy vegetables and rotting potatoes, it was very good! Paul’s risotto was nasty shit. He ate it, cuz he was starving, but he really was not a fan. Our waitress was a boner and half way through the meal, two other co-workers of hers came in to eat and annoyed the piss out of me. I mean, if you work in a restaurant and decide to go eat there, behave yourself. Don’t act like a jackass cuz you think it’s your right to show off that you work there and are drinking and eating at half price. I scowled at them as we left.

The restaurant blew, so I told Paul that I would buy dessert. I only had $6 on me so I offered to get us some candy or ice cream cones. Paul said he wanted pastries. I hate pastries, but agreed to get whatever he wanted. I picked out a brownie and he picked out the carrot cake. Not a slice, the ENTIRE carrot cake. I didn’t have enough money for that, obviously, so I gave Paul 5 of my $6 and we went home with a gigantic cake. We were going to get the ENORMOUS “Remember September 11th” cake with the picture of the World Trade Centers on it, but thought that it might be stale. For obvious reasons.

On the way home, Paul and I held hands for 2 full minutes! More than we have ever done in public. It was a nice moment that I won’t forget for a long time. We talked about whatever came into our minds and just enjoyed being with each other.

It was a wonderful evening, despite the cafeteria food.

For the rest of the night, we laid in bed naked and watched the news, Friends, and some of That 70’s Show. Since I have been, as of late, sticking my finger into Paul’s belly button, he is now trying to do the same to me. But that shit hurts! Have you ever done it? If not, stick your finger into your belly button and get to know the worst and most uncomfortable pain on the planet. Plus, if you have never stuck your finger in there, odds are that it will smell when you remove it. If this happens, wipe it under your boyfriend’s nose when they aren’t paying attention.

I have a tendency to do things to Paul that I would NEVER want done to myself. First, I rub cold things on his naked body. (piece of ice, cold hands, fudgesicles) He screams and when he tries to do it back to me, I pinch him. And hard. Also, on Monday he said something sarcastic to me, so I stuck my finger into his mouth and down his throat. He gagged and said: “Why would you DO something like that??” He knew why when I proceeded to give him a wet willy with his own spit! GENIUS, right?
Right.

So now, when I am trying to fall asleep, he tries his damndest to get his finger into my belly button. Trying to avoid his hands is fruitless and eventually the whole scenario had me laughing so hard that I felt tears brimming. I squirmed all over the bed until 1am trying to escape his fingers of death.
Yet the minute he started to fall asleep, I jammed my finger to the core of his belly.

Then I laughed as he called me “irritating”. Then I felt bad cuz don’t call me “irritating”.
So I poked him one last time in his button. He was furious at first, but when he saw my face, he burst out laughing and we went to bed cuddling. Me with my palm covering my belly button entrance.

I slept hard last night. Most nights I wake up every couple of hours, but last night, I was like a rock. (can ya smell what I was cookin?) The last dream I had was VERY strange.

Rita and I were hanging out on a baseball diamond and the weather was beautiful. Lots of sun. We were just walking around and talking and she decides that she needs to use her cell phone. She walks a couple feet away and I turn to face the river. (right. River? I swear it appeared out of nowhere, just to give me something to do while Rita was on the phone) After a couple of minutes, I turn back and notice that Rita is walking right towards a deep ravine. I freeze in my tracks as I realize that even though she is holding up her cell phone to her ear, she is sleepwalking and it is up to me to steer her in the right direction. Away from the ravine.

I start to panic as I run as fast as I can to her side. I do reach her in time and I guide her away from danger. As I am steering her away, she rests her head on my shoulder and I realize that she is snoring quite loudly. When we are back on the baseball diamond, I turn to face her and she is snoring so loud that I start to laugh. “Stop snoring Rita”, I say. Her head lolls around on her shoulders and she continues to snore her brains away. “Rita! Wake up! STOP SNORING SO LOUD!”, I yell in her face. I yell so loud that I jerk myself awake.

Paul is lying with his head on my shoulder and he is snoring in such a way that I think he is going to break his nasal cavity. I gently nudge him and he keeps rip-roaring away. Eventually I had to get up and get into the shower and it wasn’t until then that he quieted down.

I wonder where the dream would have gone had Paul not started snoring directly into my ears.

So yeah, that’s that. Weird dream, cafeteria dinner, and severe diarrhea when I woke up this morning.

I told you that Paul and I had a great time last night.

OH YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

Please, if you have the stomach control, visit this site: Rate my Poo

I am still gagging and laughing my ass off at this horribly disgusting site.

TGIW! THANK GOD IT’S WEDNESDAY!

SIKE! I promised last week that I would stop with that shit. (but I can never stop) (TGIW is my heroine)

Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Good news’ ya’ll. Talked to my brother today and he was in incredibly good spirits. The Iraq attack is going fast now and it looks as though this war may be over very very soon. (I can hear the sigh of relief from most of the country) This new development doesn’t change the deployment plans my brother has already received. He will still be going to Baghdad or Basra, but it will definitely be in the vein of a peacekeeping mission. I have yet to talk to my dad and mom about this, but I know that they are sporting some major wood over this news. Our biggest fear was that Winfield would be in combat and that is something that none of us were ready to deal with.

Winfield was also overjoyed because he was notified today that he will be promoted to Captain over the next couple of months. He was just promoted to First Lieutenant in December and he told me today that it is completely unheard of for a soldier to be promoted to the next rank within the same year. His commanders are overly impressed with his work and they want to make sure that he is rewarded for his diligence and excellence. I am so proud of him for doing his best and for achieving the goals he has set for himself.

I went on and on about how wonderfully we all think he is doing and he was very glad to hear that. I know how deeply he misses his family, but hearing from me that we are riding on his coattails throughout this whole ARMY experience makes it all seem worth it to him. Yet, we are all very vehement in how we feel about him getting out once his four-year duty has been completed. My only fear is that he will reconsider staying in the service if he is constantly being promoted. The money is good and with each new rank he achieves it gets even better. But I think this war situation has shaken him up quite a bit and I don’t think he will remain enlisted once his time is up. At least that’s what I am hoping for.

I just want my brother back. That’s all.

In other news…tonight is date night with Paul and I am muchly excited. This will be our fourth date in a row! I am so proud of him for making such an effort to spend every Wednesday with me, doing date-like things. I am sure we will go to dinner tonight and maybe rent a movie. I miss him a lot today for some reason. Isn’t it weird how even though you see your boyfriend on a regular basis, some days are just impossible to get through without them? I am in a pretty good mood today, yet I don’t want to do anything without him by my side. He’s my little ghoulie! And he is also my poo. And that’s about as queer as I get.

Last night I spent the evening with Miss Ari. We had an excellent time. We eventually ended up back at her apartment, smoking the bowls and talking our faces off. We haven’t hung out, just the two of us, in a very long time and I realized how much I truly miss it. At 11pm I realized that I had stayed out way too late and that I was way too drunk for a Tuesday night. She helped throw my sorry ass in a cab and I went home and immediately passed out. (But not before consuming my third and fourth slice of pizza for the day) I gotta have something else for lunch today.

My penis is feeling very smooth today. I don’t know why. It’s not as though I have been putting lotion on it or anything. It’s just very nice to touch. I woke up this morning and immediately started playing with myself cuz the texture was just…well, for lack of better words, delectable! It even looks pretty. How did that happen??? Picture my cock with a little sunbonnet on the tip and with a nice scarf wrapped lightly around the shaft. It’s my little gentleman. My little English gentleman.

Only two more days until THE HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES. Heh heh heh. MoooWAAAHAHAHAHA!
I am fucking Lame City, USA. It’s just that the movie is directed by Rob Zombie and it looks to be so disgusting that I MUST see it in the theater. No one else will pay money to go watch it, so I must support it to the best of my ability. Plus I am so in the mood for movie theater popcorn. My body isn’t as much in the mood for it as I am, but I tell my body to go fuck itself. At least for one more week. I will start slimming down next week. This week has already been shot to shit. What with yesterday being a 4 slice of pizza day. Egads.

Since when do I ever write “egads”?

I just started another David Sedaris book. This one is called Barrel Fever and so far so good! I love Sedaris’s quick wit and willingness to give over to his reader. He is, by far, the funniest author I have ever read. Usually I avoid comedic literature, but with him, I am what I like to call…addicted. Each book is filled with short stories that are mostly fiction. He dives into his family, his relationships, his entertainment persona…it’s all brilliantly written and his writing tone allows his words to convey exactly the feeling and content he is trying to express. If you have never read any of his work, I suggest getting Me Talk Pretty One Day. You will not be disappointed. I guarantee it!

Okay…off to eat some grub.

Wonder if it’s normal to eat 6 slices of pizza in 36 hours?
Wonder if it’s normal to gain 4 belt sizes in 7 days?

You know, at this rate, no one is going to be stopping me, asking me to model for them, again.
Well, that is, unless I consider the plus-size modeling career. That could be some serious fun. Being in the limelight and shoving my face with greasy boogers all day.

My name is Joe.

That was my introduction into today’s entry. Sometimes being creative is just so completely exhausting. And I am very tired today. I have no idea why. It’s not like my life is filled up with late night parties and charity events. More often than not, I get a full 8 hours sleep and make sure never to exercise or exert my body in any type of way, so I should have no reason to be anything, but dutifully rested each and every day. Yet, here I sit with eyes still puffy from sleeping and it’s 12:45pm. Harumph.

Last night Paul and I had taco salads again for the 3rd time in 8 days. It’s not like we are eating leftovers. We are creating these taco salads from scratch each time. Could we get any more boring? I think tonight for dinner I will have something NOT Mexican. In fact, maybe I will have pizza. Haven’t eaten that in the last 12 minutes. Might as well see if I still like it… Oh great, now I am totally having pizza for lunch. I just did it to myself. And Lord knows I still like pizza.
Pizza
Pizza
Pizza
Pizza
Pizza

Anyway, did ya’ll catch the beautiful comment that some dickhead left in my “shout outs” from yesterday? Kelly has been getting comments from this douchebag too, so I am positive that it is someone that knows both of us. Reading what this loser wrote didn’t make me upset at all. It made me realize that there are people in the world that are more sad and pathetic than I am. I complain every day about having nothing exciting to do with my life, yet I must be exaggerating, cuz I never have to resort to calling people “cunts” and “fagots” on their websites.
Yet, I do know the correct spelling of “faggot” as I grew up being called that name. Fagot reads like FAGO with a silent “t”.
Snores. I wish it did upset me, cuz then I would have some sort of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Yet, instead, I sit here filled with as much laziness and passivity as I had before I even found the comment.

Know what I did this weekend that was hella stupid?

I was cleaning out my bowl (marijuana pipe) and I broke off a piece of glass on the inside. Unfortunately, the broken piece was slightly bigger than the hole where your mouth goes, so I couldn’t get it out. I tried sticking a hangar up inside of it, but to no avail. SO! I had a GENIUS idea! I remembered from high school physics (although I never took that course) that glass expands when heated up. So I held up my lighter to the mouth piece of the bowl for about 3 minutes. I forgot that when you do that, a black coating of soot covers the glass and anything that touches it, gets covered in black as well. I quickly looked around for a napkin or tissue in order to wipe off the black gook. No luck. Quickly and without any sort of brainpower, I decide to wipe the bowl off on my stomach. (I happened to be naked at the time as I was about to get into the shower). I put the bowl to my stomach and began wiping off the black shit. A searing pain quickly followed as I realized that I was burning a hole right through my stomach. IDIOT ME forgot that only two seconds earlier I was holding a lighter up the mouthpiece. I threw the bowl on the bed and inspected the damage I had done to my tums.
Tums = stomach

A blood blister immediately formed and now I sit here typing this entry with a wound the size of a quarter on my right love handle. It’s REALLY pretty. And I didn’t feel stupid at ALL for having wiped off a blazing hot bowl onto my naked skin.

Why do I do the things I do?

Here is a poem I just wrote:

GAY

Gays.

Quickly flowing through the hands of time
I see your dick embraced with mine.
We slurp, we chew, we even suck
Cat and mouse, a game of luck.

Some day soon, I will beat your face
My boner is tan, Asian race.
When I grow up I’ll see my fate
Cuz gays are gay and gays are straight.

People eat the strangest things
This shoe belongs to Lisa Lings
Some day soon, I’ll be showbiz
If no one knows I tasted jizz.

Gays.

--------------------by Joe Cut the Shit


Ahhhh…that felt good. I am REALLY good at poems, so I thought I would just get one down on paper instead of having it roll around inside my head. If I just did this more often, I might have a book of collected works. I mean, cuz I write such good prose.

My stomach is starting to churn and burn from hunger. I am off to lunch.
What should I have today?
Salad?
Cookies?
Sandwich?
Hot dogs?
Oh yeah…pizza!

And if I wipe off the top layer of grease with my napkin, then it becomes fat free!

ROCK! I am off to La Famiglia!

AY YI YI!

Fucking Monday I hate you fucking damn motha fuckin stupid Mondays….grrrrr…..

I have this new thing that I just love. It’s called “Monday morning anxiety”. I wake up every Monday, at 7am, and lay in bed with an upset stomach and nervous tension. I try my hardest to fall back to sleep, but it doesn’t work. No matter what I do, I am forced to sit and worry about nothing. Eventually my alarm goes off and I crawl out of bed and into the worst day of the week. I fucking hate you Monday.

Had a pretty good weekend. Paul stiffed me on Friday and we fought for an hour and then I decided that I didn’t want to spend time with him anyway and forbid him from coming over to my pad. Turns out that House of 1000 Corpses doesn’t open up until this upcoming weekend, so we didn’t miss out. Saturday’s lunch with my parents was, of course, incredible. I got to eat good food, take home tons of leftovers (which were gone by the time I went to bed that night) and spend time with my two favorite people on the planet. They came down with two friends of the family and it was great to see them too. I took the group souvenir shopping and then to “Toys R Us” and they loved it! We visited the “E.T.” and “Jurassic Park” section and my parents were in awe. My mom’s friend, Bev, went running through the “Barbie Dream House” like a mad woman. They each bought $5 teddy bears and we were on our way!

It was a super good time.

Saturday night I went out with my love, Joanna. We went shopping for her friend, April, and then to this bar called “FUBAR”. We had wanted to go to a bar that had cheap drinks and a MEGATOUCH game and this is the one we came across. It is located about 4 blocks from my apartment and when we walked through the door, we saw ashtrays all over the place. Now, knowing that NYC is under a “No Smoking Ban” I was shocked to see this type of paraphernalia lying around. I immediately walked over to the bartender and asked her if we were really allowed to smoke. She said “Of course you are honey! Have a seat and light up!” That I did and Joanna and I stayed through the night having the time of our lives. We talked about so much and learned even more about each other. We laughed, we cried, it was a very good time. And we did in fact play “Photo Hunt”. I don’t think she likes it as much as me, but she worked hard at it and that’s what counts.

This week is bullshit.

I have nothing to look forward to yet and that’s gotta change soon. Everyone at work is severely under my skin. It’s just one of those days when I want to murder someone for no reason. I guess my “shit quiz” was right. Diarrhea is murder. Murder to spell that is. Even they couldn’t spell it right in their own quiz! Snores.

I saw One Hour Photo this weekend and I thought it to be brilliant. It was tre creepy and the acting/writing/directing was good. It’s nice to see these three elements actually work together in a cohesive manner for once. I recommend it. The movie. Not writing/acting/directing in a cohesive manner.

I also saw Simone this weekend too. Oh never heard of it? Yeah, cuz it’s garbage. I decided that Al Pacino should just stop making films all together. He is doing nothing, but pissing me off these days. When you are AL PACINO, you have a right to turn down bad scripts. You just do. Instead, he continues making shit. Ah well…
The director can’t decide whether he wants the movie to be realism or a farce. And since he can’t decide, the actors can’t decide and the whole movie comes off looking like a jumbled piece of nonsense. MAN IT WAS SO BAD.

And lastly, I saw End of Days with Arnold Schwarzeneggar. My first husband. (I had to drop him when he started to go flab.) Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Oh did I fall asleep just now? Funny, cuz I did that during the movie too.

It’s SNOWING SO HARD TODAY! In a way I love it, cuz it gives me hope that the city will blow up and I will be able to leave work early. In another way it pisses me off, cuz my job would never close and the commute home is going to be that much worse. So yeah…the jury is still out on this April blizzard.

I am so boring today. I can’t even play on the internet with any success. I stare blankly at my screen and I have nothing to contribute to anything. At one point, I put my head on my desk and just sat there. I didn’t close my eyes, I didn’t relax my body….I just sat there. FUCKING BORED OUT OF MY SKULL. Bored with my life that is.

Need a new hobby. Like punching people in the face that I don’t like. That would not only give me something to do, but also find a way to release this pent up “boredom” frustration I got goin.

So Ari and I just went out to have a smoke and let me tell you how fucking cold it is.
so cold. Snow has covered the city and the thing that pisses me off the most is that I am still sitting at my fucking desk. Do not think that I haven’t already given thought to throwing myself on the ground and breaking a leg. At least then I can lay in bed and watch TV without any sort of guilt.

Ah shit…I gotta go. This journal is even boring ME today.

I am Diarrhea . Diarrhea's are by far the most humorous of all the shits going for the big laugh at all costs. From fart jokes to slapstick humor Diarrhea's are know for pulling out the stops when it comes to shits and giggles... though Diarrhea's do have their down sides.. And like the sad clowns they are, Diarrhea's are actually dying inside and prone to suicide and even murder... What Kinda Shit Are You? # posted by Joe : 12:05 PM Friday, April 04, 2003 Finally, it’s Friday. I made a big mistake. I rubbed out all of the gel I had in my hair, cuz it looked like nutsack. Now what remains is a huge POOF of bullshit. I sit here at my desk, glancing at my reflection and grow more and more embarrassed at the damage I have caused. I tried to put water in it to fix it, but to no avail. I still sit here laying claim to the worst hairstyle on the planet. Lordy, I really need to get it cut soon. Last night I finally got my wish of eating sushi! Paul and I went to dinner at our favorite Soosh place and sat at the “bar” so we could watch the chef’s do it first hand. It was fun, cept watching people make your food is pretty sick. The chefs didn’t wear gloves and when they were putting the rolls together, it all looked so slimy and barfaricious. Yet, when our order came, I shoved each roll down my gullet. I even tried a new kind last night! DRAGON MAKI! Ooooooooooh scary! Cuz of dragons! This particular roll is covered in avocado. I liked it, but prefer my Philly Maki better. Paul and I finally saw Jackass the Movie. OMIGOD I loved it. I am not a HUGE fan of the show, but I have been known to catch it on occasion. Paul owns “Steve-O Uncut” and that shit’s pretty fucked up. (If you don’t know, Steve-O is one of the main stunt performers on Jackass. He’s the one that always runs around naked) But Jackass the Movie was fucking hysterical. Most of it is them hurting themselves and I don’t really laugh at that stuff, but when they play jokes on the public, they go so overboard, that I lose myself in hysterical laughter. I won’t give away any of the scenes, cuz I want everyone to experience it for the first time by themselves. But MAN I was rolling on the floor unable to contain myself. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I laughed so intensely. Still no hook up with Paul. We are hanging out again tonight so maybe then? Maybe I need to relax and stop freaking out about it every day. That would probably be step #1. I decided that I don’t like Paul’s roommate Lisa anymore. Member when I hated her, but then I started to like her? Well, she gets on my nerves again and big time. Last night she got home from this event that her job was sponsoring and she bounds into Paul’s room wasted and goes “I need to smoke pot! Who’s got some?” Now clearly, I am the only one that could have the “pot” as Paul never buys his own. (Don’t get me started on that one) But I have like none left. So I say “I don’t have any left. I am SO sorry.” Paul chirps in “Yes you do. It’s on the dresser.” At that point I could have easily ripped Paul’s lungs out. But I calmly responded with “No it isn’t Paul. There is none left.” Then Lisa goes “You don’t HAVE to smoke with me if you don’t want to.” OH SNORES LISA. Fucking go away. In any case, I covertly hid the pot that Paul claims I had sitting on the dresser. Then I sat there acting as though they were both out of their minds to even THINK that I would have it on me. Eventually Lisa gave up and went to bed and I look at Paul and go “Don’t you EVER offer up MY pot to YOUR roommates. I am not the supplier of everyone’s drug whims. The minute people want to start tossing me some cash, THEN they get some smoke.” Paul waved me away in a condescending manner and then I stuck my finger in his belly button again. THAT GOT HIM! That’s what I do now when he pisses me off. Stick my finger way down into his belly button. Tonight we are off to THE HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES. SPOOOOOOKY and GORRRRRRRRRRRRRY and ITALLLLLLLLLICS. I am excited to be grossed out. Tomorrow my parents come. Tomorrow night I will hopefully find some plans cuz right now I got none! I haven’t had a drink at all this week. In fact, I haven’t had a drink since last Friday! What is happening to me?!?! I wish I had friends to go out with. But eh…it’s been nice to detox a little. SHABBAT SHALOM ALL! Be back in here this weekend. # posted by Joe : 1:53 PM Thursday, April 03, 2003 What up what up?? Just got off the phone having talked to my lovely Rita. She sounded stuffed up, but ok. Things aren’t going as easily as I had hoped they would for her in Syracuse, but we are planning a visit soon and I know that that will lift her sprits! As the conversation came to a close, I got the impression that she felt a bit better. It’s hard on both of us, not having each other to sit and discuss every little detail of our lives with. We went from being Siamese twin babies to being separated so brutally by way of rusty knives. And I don’t remember the Dr. using any sort of antiseptic. This shit still hurts! Paul and I did NOT hook up last night. At one point, we were both lying next to each other on his bed watching TV. When the commercial came, I looked over at him and noticed that he had pulled his pants down and was staring at me with greedy eyes and a boner in his hand. I stifled a laugh and asked: “Oh, are you finally ready to be physical with me again?” The look in his eyes didn’t go away and he replied “Put your mouth on my dick.” Um, excuse me. I don’t fucking think so. I have been begging and pleading with this kid for weeks to take off his clothes and touch me, and he always says “No, I feel weird. I don’t want to. I’m LAME!” So last night when he told me to “Put (my) mouth on his dick” I decided that there was no harm in putting off “hooking up” till another day. I leaned over him and let him think that I was going to give him a blowjob and as I got close to it, I took one hand and slapped his dick in its face and took my other hand and poked him inside his belly button. He screamed and then burst out laughing and said “WHAT? NO BLOW?” Who is he kidding? No blow. We did kiss a bit during the rest of the night, but the mood was lost. We bitched and bitched at each other about where to go to dinner. I wanted sushi cuz it was cheap and close to the apartment. He wanted to go to a GAY restaurant and snores. So we went to this place called “Stingy LuLu’s”, where the waitstaff is all drag queens. Kind of like “Lucky Chengs”, but not nearly as cool. The menu was lame shit and our drag queen waitress was nothing more than a bearded man in a wig. It was so faux drag queen that I told Paul we should leave. He had no problem doing that, so we drank our waters, left two dollars on the table and took off. We ended up at one of my favorite little restaurants in the city, “Yaffa”. Kelly and her ex-girlfriend Randy introduced me to this place when we first moved to the city and I have been back numerous times since. They have the BEST chicken sandwiches and their carrot dressing is slammin. Paul and I had a very nice dinner and as usual ended up with 3 courses. We are turning into gigantic monsters. Someone take the food out of my mouth and give it to an Ethiopian baby. We talk, ere’ day, how we are going to be the two biggest porkers in the Bahamas. Eh…pth. We discussed what to do over the next couple of days, since he has time off from work. Tonight we are going to an IMAX movie and tomorrow I think we may go see House of 1000 Corpses. Rob Zombie directed that sick shit and I think it looks SPOOOOOOOOKY. And also disgusting. I can’t wait. I am so happy that things between he and I are going so well. He is being extra cute these days and it’s making me love him deeper and deeper. My parents are coming to NYC this weekend to see Beauty and the Beast, on Broadway, with some friends of theirs. The show is beautiful and I know they will love it. Before that, I am going to meet them for lunch at The Playwright Tavern. It’s like my new favorite place. The burgers are big and the dumps I take after are noteworthy. I wish I could see my parents for lunch every weekend. Life would be much more relaxing. Cept last weekend, I left wanting to kill myself……… Embarrassingly enough, I am walking around with Michelle Branch playing in my Discman. I stumbled across the CD last week and I decided to listen to it all the way through today. To be honest, I love it. I mean, I’m not obsessed with it and have no need to memorize all of the words to all of the songs, but…. But there is this one song (track 2) that is the theme song for MTV’S Sorority Life and I just love it. I love it so much that I clipped my dick off and turned my genitals into a vagina. Next year I am pledging DZO. You know how it goes. Wanting a vagina so you can be in a sorority. It’s natural. Here’s some things I bet you didn’t know about me: My granny does indeed have a third nipple. Just like Marky Mark! But I have never seen it up close. My dad has and he advises me against it. I didn’t come out of the closet until I was 21. The first person I jerked off to and had an actual orgasm over was Gilad from “Bodies in Motion”. My favorite food when I was a child was french fries and it still is. I have only been on a horse once. But it didn’t walk anywhere. It stood there like a dumb ass. My nickname during my Freshman year of highschool was “Fairy Fruit Fag.” I liked that a lot. My nickname during my Sophomore year of highschool was “Pat” - As in androgynous “Pat” from SNL. That felt gooood. My nickname during my Junior year of highschool was “Joe”. Seems fair. My nickname during my Senior year of highschool was “Jim Carrey”. Who the fuck knows. But at least the name was male oriented. I have been known to take pisses in cups rather than walk ALL the way to the bathroom. Cuz I am used to living in mansions, obviously. The sports I played growing up: Flag Football, baseball, volleyball, softball, basketball, and wrestling. The sports I was good at: Choir. I never get sick, but weird things happen to my body ALL the time. My most recent list of maladies include: a pinched nerve, weird rash on my face and elbows, bleeding gums, a baby tooth (still in my mouth), “scars” on my dick which then became a mound of flaking-off dead skin due to my overuse of steroid cream, enough crusty boogers to kill a man, and most importantly, gayness. That should be enough for now. Time to go get lunch. Sometimes I really do wish that I could just turn into “Pizza the Hut” and be done with it. Then I wouldn’t have to spend so much damn money on food, when I could just eat myself! But I would make sure that THIS Pizza the Hut had no olives. I hate you olives. # posted by Joe : 2:11 PM Wednesday, April 02, 2003 TGIW! Ok, can I stop with that lame “TGIW” shit already? I gotta get some new material. And fast. So, when one problem ends, another begins. I am not as miserable today about my brother and the whole war in Iraq thing, as I have been over the last couple of days. Instead I’m pissed cuz my hair looks like fucking garbage. Can anyone answer a question for me? Why is it (for guys) that one day you go to bed and your hair looks fine, but when you wake up the next day, you notice that somehow your hair has grown an extra half inch over night and now looks like cunt? It’s a very strange dilemma. I am feeling SO MUCH better today. I’m like a brand new boy. I have to say that the support I have gotten from everyone around me (including my readers…how could I possibly forget?!) has helped me tremendously. I have bounced back and feel much more like my old self again. You know, fat, balding, and missing half my teeth! It’s great! Tonight is “Date Night” with Paul. I think we might have sushi. I haven’t had those little fishy bastards in about 2 weeks and I am in some sort of withdrawal. Yet, Paul wants to go somewhere “gay”, of course. So, as per my weekly ritual, I have picked out a few nice restaurants in Chelsea and am giving him the option of picking the final place. He is paying, afterall. I don’t care where we go. We have been having so much fun on these “date nights” that I am excited just to be with him, out to dinner. When Paul and I hung out on Monday night, we decided that tonight we were going to start “hooking up” again. I know how lame it sounds that we have to plan this, but it’s been 2-3 months since we have had an orgasm together. A lots been going on and to be honest, when you are with someone for over 3 years, sometimes the other issues take the place of physical romance. I am not upset that we haven’t been intimate, but its definitely damn time that we start doing the nasty again. I mean, at this point, I’m not going to lose my virginity until I am 54. Oh yeah. Did you forget that I was a virgin? Cuz I pathetically am. Let’s not talk about it right now. --Sidenote-- I woke up incredibly horny this morning and was FORCED to jerk my dick off. Good thing I build up a lot of jizz during the day, or I would never be able to get the “hooks” tonight. SO LAST NIGHT, I am walking to my apartment from my Columbus Circle subway stop, when this Asian guy stops me and asks “Excuse me sir, have you ever modeled before?” Joe: (Having been stopped by people like this before, I say:) “Yes, I have.” Asian Persuasion: “Are you currently being represented by anyone?” Joe: “No, actually I am in between agencies at the moment.” A.P.: “Oh, great! How would you like to come to an open call for ‘TransAtlantic’ tomorrow night at 7:30pm?” Joe: “I’m not sure what I have going on tomorrow night, but if you want to give me your card, I will think about it.” A.P.: “Well, actually, I can’t give you my card if you aren’t going to guarantee me that you will show up.” Joe: “Okay, that’s weird. I don’t know if I can make it tomorrow night, but if you give me your card, I can follow up with you in the morning.” A.P.: “I can’t do that sir. My job is to find attractive men and women and get them to come to our open call.” Joe: “But I don’t understand. You will give me your card, but only if I make a promise to you that I will be there tomorrow night.” A.P.: “Correct.” Joe: “What if I promise you that I will go, but then don’t show up? Do you come back and take the card away from me?” A.P.: (Getting flustered) “No, well of course not. But we will have your name and phone number listed with our company and if you didn’t show up, I guess we would have a problem working with you in the future.” Joe: “Hmmm. I think this sounds sketchy and I have been stopped on the street for this type of thing before. My feeling is that if you were really interested in me, as a potential model for your company, you would make every effort to accommodate me, am I correct?” A.P.: (starting to lose his mind) “Uh, yes…um…no. I don’t know. Are you interested in coming to an open call tomorrow night for ‘TransAtlantic’? Joe: “Can I have your card?” A.P.: “Not unless you are guaranteeing me that you will be at the open call.” Joe: (starting to laugh) “Good day to you sir.” I walked away and when I got to the end of the block, I looked back to the spot where the guy had stopped me. He was still standing there looking as confused as I have ever seen an Asian look. I smiled to myself and went home to eat chicken and scalloped potatoes. BTW, it was a YEM dinner. Why is it that no one can ever stop me and discover me for real? Why, when I am stopped on the street, is it only to be scammed for one reason or another? It’s some shit, lemme tell you. You gotta be careful who you give your phone number to in this city and even more careful what type of situations you put yourself into. Yet, if the guy who stopped me was a bodybuilder, instead of an Asian, I would have done whatever he asked me to do. And I would have been putting myself into a much more dangerous position. But, it’s just that I like muscles so much. Spoke with Rita today for the first time in awhile. I sent her a very long email last night detailing everything that has been going on in my life. She wrote back immediately and then called me as soon as she could today. Hearing her voice was like getting a load blown in my ear. Or, hmmm. No, not getting the load blown in my ear, more like blowing the load in someone’s ear. OK I DON’T KNOW! Whatever kind of load it was, it made me so happy. We are trying to arrange a visit for the sometime this month. I haven’t seen her since she moved out of our apartment on March 1st. I long for her company daily. I am not sure yet if she will be coming to NYC or if I will be going to Syracuse for the visit, but either way, it couldn’t come fast enough. She is my love. Time to get something to eat. I am so starving, that I am about ready to start swallowing the fingernails that I so readily chew off every day. I have never actually done that before, but at this point, add some salt and blue cheese to them and I am sure they would taste just fine. YEM! # posted by Joe : 2:22 PM About Me Name: Joe Location: New York, New York, United States Good looking, quick witted, smart, talented and super fun. I'm also really down on myself as you can tell. View my complete profile Links Ari Goes Down Alarming News And Then You Die And This One Time Another Valentine Avert Your Eyes Bedtime Stories Bloghorrea - Hot Gay Blogs blog of Anthony BOY BUTTER Breakup Babe Chwjohns Diaspora South Dick and Chick Dirty Feet & Lily White Intentions Dizzy Fish Fork in the Road Great Googly Moogly Got Gay? Indigo Steve Ingrid Michaelson It's All About Me Just Run Kambri Crews Lifeknot Life On The Far Side Linnea Dates Locked Up MMMMM, Brains Memoirs of Me Mikey MOLLYGOOD My Life Transformed My Not-So-Boring Life My Random Thoughts My Urban Kvetch Nance Nealmeister Novice New Yorker Observe But Do Not Interfere Perez Hilton Regular Ramblings Rob Speaks Sassy Little Punkin Secret Agent Josephine Shaken Not Stirred Shoot from the Hip So Midwestern Steve the Sex Addict Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice Sure.Fine.Whatever Tales from the City Television Without Pity Texas T-Bone The Cosmopolitan Man The Lost Find There's Always Something The Upright's Tune The Virginity Monologues This Fish Needs a Bicycle villanovababy What the *&%$... Woof Brandon You think he's a...FAUXMO? Blogroll Me! Archives 01/01/2002 - 02/01/2002 02/01/2002 - 03/01/2002 03/01/2002 - 04/01/2002 04/01/2002 - 05/01/2002 05/01/2002 - 06/01/2002 06/01/2002 - 07/01/2002 07/01/2002 - 08/01/2002 08/01/2002 - 09/01/2002 09/01/2002 - 10/01/2002 10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 06/01/2003 - 07/01/2003 07/01/2003 - 08/01/2003 08/01/2003 - 09/01/2003 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007