Cut the Shit

VMA’S!

I will give a detailed recap of the awards show as soon as I can.

But for now?

For now I go to the Pocono’s with my ladies of love.

Have an amazing Labor Day weekend ya’ll!

As usual, engage in tons of debauchery and lusty adventures.

Here’s something to think about while I am gone:

Smelly fish douche!

See you on Tuesday!!

TONIGHT IS THE MTV VIDEO MUSIC AWARDS!

Rock. The show goes way too long, but other than that, I am muchly excited. My friend Angie is coming over to watch them with me. She stopped by my place last night and we talked for awhile about her grandmother. Pretty much, things are not going well. There isn't much hope left. I feel terrible for her. It’s the last living grandparent that she has. Angie has been in complete control of the situation and I told her that if and when she needs to release some of the pent up emotion, I am here for her. She asked if I would watch the award show with her tonight and I immediately felt like that was the right thing to do. Poor thing.

Last night Paul ran lines with me for my show. He was so adorable during the whole thing. He asked me tons of questions about my part in the play and made me laugh over and over. Things are going so well for us right now and I wish I could be with him every day. I’m not going to see him again until after Labor Day and that totally blows. I wish things were different and that he could come with me to the Pocono’s this weekend. I live for the day when my boyfriend will be able to go to events with me, as not only my date, but my lover. Sick…lover. Some day maybe.

Thank God that Rita’s fiancé isn’t going to the Pocono’s either. Rita and I have already planned on jumping on each other and French kissing the second we get together. I am going to impregnate her with my tongue. Since Rita planned the trip, she, my friend Erica, and I get to sleep in the big master bedroom at the condo. It sounds AMAZING! We will be like three bugs in a beautiful looking rug. Beautiful because Erica and Rita are Hot City, USA. Actually all the girls are Hot City, Usa. For some reason, these 5 beautiful women wanted to be MY friend in college. It’s pretty great. I’m totally getting some.

Lick my cunt.

I have been a VERY bad boy this week. I ate two slices of pizza on Tuesday and today, after I promised myself that I would be healthy, I ate another slice. The grease dribbled off my chin as I stroked my cock in pizza heaven. It was the most erotically disgusting thing that I have ever done. Oh man it was so good. And just to piss Angela off, I had TWO diet cokes today. Take your egg smelling farts and leave me with my oh so delicious soda pop.
Ok, can I stop writing like a fucking weirdo today?

Last night when I was hanging with Angie, she told me that when she was in Mexico a couple months ago, she was walking down the street and bumped right into a man that was taking a shit on the street. She bumped into him just as the long dook was hanging out of his ass and ready to break off. Startled, she took a step back and saw (with her own blue eyes) the poop string break off and fall to the ground. It was long and nast. I burst out laughing and we decided that the new term for when poop falls out of your ass is “breaking point”. Angie and I had a good laugh and then I horked all over her face.

Think of me tonight as Justin Timberlake performs on stage. Also think of me when Britney and Madonna pretend they’re friends and sing Like a Virgin. Madonna’s voice is so weak and destroyed at this point, that I wonder who will be the tighter lip-syncher. MTV says that they ban lip-synching at the awards show, but these two bitches couldn’t belt out a tune if you paid them. Oh yeah…MTV IS paying them. Be ready for sweet, melodic whispers to come out of their mouths.

Do NOT think of me when Kelly Osbourne does anything. Unless she falls flat on her doughy face. Then think of me dying laughing.

Do NOT think of me when Christina Aguilera is eating 17 cheeseburgers and wiping the melted cheese all over her sweaty, stupid body.

And for the love of Georgia, please don’t think of me if any more late 80’s, early 90’s metal heads jump back into the scene with their rendition of “Paradise City”. You understand.

I gotta take a crap.

Enjoy the show!

After posting Ahmad’s letter yesterday, I began to feel really guilty about it. It wasn’t a very classy thing to do. He didn’t deserve that. So in order to put my mind at ease, I decided that I would delete the letter from my journal as soon as I got to work.

But then, when I woke up this morning, I decided that I wanted it to stay. Sure, it’s not classy, but it’s real, and I’m not going to start censoring myself even more than I already do. So, the email stays and I will learn to deal with having no class. Not like I had much to begin with. The end.

I never made it to rehearsal last night. Looooooooong story and I would just rather ignore that topic of conversation for now. Instead, I went to Paul’s apartment to run lines while he was at his job. I worked on the script for a couple of hours and then finally had to pull myself away from it. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my acting that I look at the clock and realize that the evening is almost over and I have spent the entire time with my nose in my script. It’s the one time of day where I feel passion. It’s all encompassing and it’s a beautiful thing.

After I was finished working on the show, I decided to completely re-do Paul’s living room and bedroom. The two rooms are connected to each other and were in need of some serious work. I ripped the place apart, vacuumed, dusted, and re-organized everything. I then moved into Paul’s bedroom and did the exact same thing. I hung pictures on his walls, folded and organized his dresser drawers and closet and basically sucked the room free of dirt and nast. It wasn’t the most fun project of my life, but I knew that he would be surprised when he got home from work. And he was. He was thrilled. Sometimes I am such a good boy.

So, while I love the housekeeper at my job, she tends to drive me a little crazy. She considers me to be one of her children and attempts to take care of me as such. She brings me juice and fruit almost every morning and whenever I need anything, she goes out of her way to get it for me. For example, one day I needed toilet paper, so, Angela, put a few rolls into my backpack. One day I needed chocolate syrup (hey…we all need certain things at certain times) and Angela got some for me and surprised me with it. In return, I try to take care of anything that she needs: photocopies, postage on her letters, translating broken English into broken Spanish. It’s a good balance.

However, she is now starting to get on my nerves. First off, she talks to me non-stop. As anyone who has ever worked with me before knows, I don’t really like to have hour-long conversations at work. I have a lot to do and I hate wasting time on insignificant banter. Or, I have my work done and really need the extra time to read online journals or play around in gay chat rooms. You understand. And to top all of this off…she now told me that she doesn’t want to see me drinking soda anymore at work.

Angela: “Soda is bad for body.”
Joe: “But Angela, I love soda. I need to drink soda every day or else I lose my mind.”
A: “No Joe. You drink water.”
J: “But I don’t like water. It tastes gross.”
A: “Grrrrrross?” (she trills “r’s” cuz she is Spanish)
J: “Water tastes like nothing and I just like drinking some soda during the day.”
A: “No more soda. No more.”
J: (okay…back off!) “Fine, I will drink more water, but can I just have a soda once in awhile?”
A: “NO SODA! I have had no soda for years. Some time I have soda, but only one time year.”
J: (laughing) “So you can have soda, but I can’t.”
A: “You have soda one time year.”
J: “I have soda one time day.”
A: “No Joe. No soda.”
J: “Fine Angela. I won’t drink soda.”
A: “You drink Seltzer soda.”
J: “SICK! Never. I hate seltzer water more than I hate regular water.”
A: “You drink water.”
J: “Huh?”
A: “YOU DRINK WATER.”
J: “Fine. I will. But just cuz you make me drink it.”
A: “No, you go get water now and drink.”
J: “But I’m not thirsty.”
A: “OK. Then I get you water drink.”
J: (ARGH!) “No, I’ll get it. Thanks Mami (mommy), I will drink water from now on.”
A: (Smiling and so happy with herself)

So now I’m stuck drinking water when Angela is around and sneaking up to the soda machine for a quick fix when she is at lunch. Man, it sucks working with your mom.

Plus, to be honest, I don’t see what’s so wrong with soda. Despite the sodium, what else is wrong with it? There’s no calories, no fat, no carbs, no nothing. Its tasty water is what it is. Fucking yum and fucking yum.

The only part of the story I left out is that Angela ripped a huge egg fart at my desk as she walked away. She eats tons of vegetable, so her farts are totally rank. I had to breathe through my nose for a good 3 minutes. It’s pretty sick.

My friend Angie is at the hospital because her grandmother is dying. There is no hope for her at this point and they are currently trying to figure out when would be the most appropriate time to let her go. From what Angie said, her grandmother is completely doped up to decrease her suffering. It’s incredibly sad and I feel horrible. I wish I could do more for her, but at this point, I think she just needs to be with her family. I’ve been there and my heart breaks for her.

Oakily Doakily.

Off to lunch.

I am so hungry and so in need of pizza, but that just can’t be a possibility. I scarfed two slices down yesterday and am not allowed to scarf any down today.

That is unless nobody sees me. Then it doesn’t count.

HO YEAH!

The most upsetting part of my day…

Good Morning Joe,

This email has been long overdue, but after seeing you on Friday and thinking about our situation a bit more in depth, I concluded that I had to finally be completely honest with you on how I had felt and how I am feeling now.

From the day we met, I have felt an incredible connection with you. As you know, I very seldom open myself up to anyone, but with you it seemed easy. I enjoyed spending time with you and looked past and at times ignored your situation with Paul. In retrospect, that was a huge mistake on my part because all it did was confuse you and I even more. I never wanted to listen to what you had to say about where you stood on Paul because always in the back of my mind I figured you would break up with him and we would end up dating and it would all fall into place.

I underestimated the extent of your relationship with him, even though, in fairness to you, you tried to tell me in the most delicate of ways. But all I heard and listened to was how much you two were not getting along. All I saw were the little notes you would leave all around my apartment. All I heard were the optimistic things you would say about you and I, the hope that you displayed about having some sort of future with me. All the times we were with one another further made me feel like there was an honest chance that we would end up together. Sex was never as intense, it seemed like there was no one else in the entire world when I held you. No one. Yes, Joe, I fell in love with you.

But now, I need to look out for myself. I need some serious time away from you. I know that I said I was ready to be your friend, but I am not. I can not afford to invest anymore time into something that has caused so much confusion and heartache for me. I need for my heart to heal. And during that time, I can’t see you or talk with you or be in touch with you. Because if you were part of my life, even in a small way, I would always think of what could be. I would always think of having the chance to introduce you to people as my boy.

I don’t know when I will be ready to see or speak to you again, only God knows. I do this because it is the fair thing for both of us. I don’t want you to always be cautious around me, I do not always want to be thinking that there is a chance of something, because there is not. You and I are too far apart in this period of time in our lives. If God deems for us to meet again, than it will happen and I have all the faith in him to guide our lives in the best of ways.
But, I have to say goodbye for now. I do this because this is the best thing for us both. I have to walk away from this and go on with my life without you. But mainly, I do this because I love you, with every fiber of my being.

I will always keep you in my prayers along with your brother and loved ones.

Amahd


While I completely understand where Ahmad is coming from and while I know that he needs to do what he needs to do for himself, it still sucks that no matter WHAT I do, I can’t secure any gay male friends. Without sounding like an ego driven asshole, this type of thing happens to me all the time. I don’t always hook up with my potential gay male friends, but regardless, they either hate me or love me too much to be my friend. Fuck. Well, such is life.

I have to let Ahmad live his…however he feels most comfortable.

My head is spinning so fast on its axis that I feel as though I am coked up. Man, I have been running around the office today as though I am on a SPEED high. The day has flown by, but damn, I’m actually TIRED from working so hard today.

So many things to talk about…

First things first…

My visit with Ahmad went wonderfully. At first he was really upset and angry with me. I gave him about an hour to tell me how I hurt him, destroyed his faith in love, and ruined the trust that we had worked so hard to build. When he was finished, I explained my side of the scenario and apologized for hurting his feelings. At the end I gave him the option to either pursue a friendship with me or to cut me off entirely. He decided to keep our friendship. After a couple of hours at the bar, I took him back to my apartment so that we could smoke and chill. I thought that it would be the true test to see if we really could be just friends. It worked out fine. When Ahmad was leaving he told me “If you ever feel as though you want to try things out with ‘us’ again, let me know.” “But Ahmad, you are dating someone already.” “Yes, but he’s not you.” I kissed him on the cheek and he left. It will take us time, but I am sure that if I handle this relationship maturely, I very well may make friends with someone that I have hooked up with previously. It’s never happened before, but this time I am determined.

SO…there is this girl and her name is Shy Lux. Turns out that Lux and I went to high school together. Also turns out that she did the high school choir and musical and graduated a year after me. It is IMPOSSIBLE for Lux and I to not know each other. I mean, I was in choir for all 4 years of high school and I just about ate, shat, lived, and breathed the high school theater department. I am positive that we were friends in school. I know it. But…I still don’t know who she is. I have put my detective hat on with this mystery and I am bound and determined to figure out who she is. Ooh…the suspense is killing me. Lux…if we figure out who each other are…we have to promise to keep total anonymity. Promise? Promise with your whole heart?

Paul and I had an incredible dinner on Saturday night. He took me to one of the places he works at and everyone treated us like GOLD! We were served just about every entrée and appetizer they offered and all for free. Everyone wanted to meet me and I felt as though I was a mini-celebrity. The food was SO GOOD! I had crab cakes and lobster salad and calamari and oysters and filet mignon and champagne and french fries, and my God there was so much more. My stomach was completely distended from all of the food I shoved into my mouth. I kept making Paul poke me in the belly cuz I was totally pregnant.

Paul treated me so well, paid for everything, and we laughed and snuggled all night long. I wasn’t going to tell him about Ahmad as I thought that it would be inviting an argument. Yet, as Saturday night’s dinner progressed, I found the right opportunity and threw the information into our conversation. His face fell when I first brought it up, but I promised him that Ahmad and I are fully over and that I am overjoyed with how well his and my relationship is going. He kissed me on the lips and I knew that all was well.

My brother is fine! Of COURSE he’s fine. God is taking such good care of him. He called us all on Saturday morning, just in time for my parents to salvage some semblance of their weekend. He was on the firing range when the fatality occurred, but he said that he is okay and that he is dealing with it, just like he is dealing with everything else that’s fucked up there. He is making me so proud that I can’t even put it into words. My brother, the solider. Weird.

I am going to the Pocono’s for Labor Day weekend with my best friends from college. There are 5 girls and ME! Baby Joe. Everything’s all planned and as I get closer to Friday, I get more and more excited. It is the only time of the year that we are all together and it is non-stop hilarity and fun. For some reason, our 6 drastically different personalities blend so well. Man, it will be a weekend to remember.

Off to stay the night at Paul’s apartment. Now that things are going so well with us, I actually get EXCITED to spend the evening with him. He makes me laugh so hard.

And that’s that!

For some reason I was so excited about today being Friday that I couldn’t fall asleep last night. I was working on my lines for the show until 2am and then I lay in bed staring at the wall with weekend jitters. It was so weird! Like it is my birthday or something. Man, it should TOTALLY be my birthday again. That shit is fun.

Our rehearsal last night went well. Actually for the first hour or so I was in a pretty horrible mood because I was starting to feel the stress of not having a full cast, the pressures and inconveniences of a new space, and the fact that we haven’t had a solid rehearsal in two weeks. Sure, we’ve HAD rehearsal; they just haven’t been intensive.

Ian, the guy that plays opposite me in the show, is fast becoming my new best friend. He is such a tough guy, but for some reason he and I have a great rapport with each other. When Megan and Kelly were auditioning the girls last night, Ian and I went to another room to work on our scenes. Ian could tell that I wasn’t in the best of moods and he asked me what was wrong. We both discussed our fears, the changes, and our excitement about the upcoming show. He had some great advice and we both walked away from the conversation feeling much better. I asked him to go out with me and have a beer in order to get to know each other a little bit better and he was all for it. I just love this kid. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in the show.

My parents are crazy today. There was a report on CNN this morning explaining that a soldier in my brother’s unit was killed yesterday at a firing range exercise. My brother was supposed to be at the firing range yesterday, so my parents are convinced that he was the fatality. I tried my damndest to calm my mother down, but my dad had already pushed her over the edge. I understand that they are worried and scared. Every day is a living nightmare for them. I wish there was SOMETHING that I could do, but unfortunately there isn’t. I tell them that I am positive it wasn’t Winfield who was hurt and that they have to trust and believe that God will keep him safe. But it doesn’t matter. My parents are going to worry themselves into an early grave regardless. I fucking hate the war and I fucking hate the fact that my brother is in the ARMY. There isn’t much more I can say about it. I fucking hate this shit.

Here’s a funny little story to get our Friday’s off on the right foot…

The summer before my senior year in college, I dated this guy named Kevin. We dated for a month, 2 weeks of which he spent in Florida on vacation. I dated a number of guys while home in Albany for my summer breaks from college, but Kevin was the only one that I stayed with for more than a week. And even him I couldn’t stand after 9 days. (reason number one why Paul is so special and important to me…3 years and 9 months…I have never committed to a guy for even half that amount of time)

One time, Kelly and Angie (her ex) and I were at Kevin’s house hanging out, drinking some wine, and playing Balderdash. Out of nowhere, I had to take the biggest shit. I snuck out of the room and used one of the bathrooms that was off to the side of the rest of the house. I remember that the bathroom was salmon colored and that there was a washing machine and dryer in the same room. (it was a huge bathroom) I squirted out my typical diarrhea-esque shit and when I went to stand up and flush the toilet, I accidentally knocked a clean stack of washing clothes into the pool of shit resting happily in the toilet. I let out a yelp and immediately tried to fish the cloths out. They were covered in poop water. Mortified, I panicked as to what to do to solve this situation. Once all of the wash cloths were retrieved, I flushed the toilet and stood there, sweat pouring from my brow. Then it hit me…the washing machine! I threw the dirty shit covered wash clothes into the washing machine and decided that I would turn it on and clean everything up. Then it hit me…if I turned the washing machine on, Kevin would know that something was up and he might figure me out. And that’s when I got an even better idea!

I opened up the dryer and noticed that there was a pile of dry clothes sitting inside. Cover Up Time. I shoved the shitty washcloths to the bottom of the clean clothes and then shut the door and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. I exited the bathroom and no one was ever the wiser. Cept for the lucky person who took out the clothes to fold them and found 15 different washcloths covered in diarrhea poop. Hahahahahaha oh God, why did I think that was good idea.

In any case, I was never busted for it and I broke up with Kevin a week later. What’s done is done!

Okay y’all!

Have an EXCELLENT weekend!

And remember…

Pussy is best eaten with a little Tobasco sauce and a ton of salt.

Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum!

Oh thank the Lord that it is almost the weekend. This week has been so crazy that I feel as though I am going to collapse in exhaustion. Too bad that I have a ton of shit to do this weekend. Luckily, some of it is fun and not centered around errands and chores. Damn those errands and chores.

I saw Freddy Vs. Jason last night and I LOVED it. Yes, it was campy and yes, the acting was horrific, but it was such a wonderful throw back to the originals that it would have been impossible for me not to love every second. Freddy is definitely getting older and Jason seems to be getting bigger (new actor playing the part), but they can still hack up bodies with the best of them. I never realized how hard Jason swings his machete. Man, he rips through bodies like nobody’s business. I almost got hard watching him sling around his brute force.

On Friday night I will be hanging out with Ahmad. He was originally supposed to go to Albany to visit a friend, but the trip was cancelled. Now, he and I are meeting up for drinks so that we can get some closure on our past dating relationship. I have promised myself that I will not kiss him, hug him for too long, or insinuate in any way that he and I should ever date again. I want him as a friend and realize that it is up to me whether or not we act out on our physical attraction. No matter how drunk I get…I REFUSE to kiss his mouth. Okay, maybe once. Okay, maybe twice, but I SWEAR that I will never touch his dick again. Never. Ever. Whatever.

I just love Paul so much. Although he wasn’t thrilled to go see Freddy Vs. Jason, he went willingly and was a gem throughout the entire experience. After the movie was over, I wanted to stop and get a bite to eat and he wanted to go to the local grocery store and make dinner. At first I was irritated because I didn’t want to have to MAKE dinner at midnight, but I gave in and put on my happy face as we did our shopping. When we got home, he decided he wasn’t hungry. At first I wanted to rip his face off, cuz all I wanted to eat was a fast food hamburger and maybe some fries. But I didn’t yell, I simply explained that he wanted to go food shopping and now I was stuck without anything to eat. Without question, Paul got up, went into the kitchen made me two grilled cheese sandwiches, a salmon plate with cream cheese and crackers, and poured me a glass of soda. It was amazing. Usually we would fight over something like this and would probably go to bed hungry and angry. But now we have this new communication thing going and instead of yelling, we talk and fix the problem. I went to bed full and happy.

Mariah invited us both to go see Tori Amos on Saturday, but I had to say “no” because I simply don’t have the money. Paul really wanted to go, but he and I had plans to go to dinner on Saturday night. When I heard him tell Mariah that he would go to the concert anyway, I bit my tongue and shut up about it. Later on in the evening, Paul surprised me by saying that if I don’t have the money to go to the concert, he won’t go either and he will still take me out to dinner. I looked him in the eyes and smiled. We kissed, then we hugged, then we kissed again. It’s like I have a REAL relationship now. And I am thrilled.

When things are going well with Paul, everything else in my life seems to fall into place. I am SO glad that I didn’t do anything irrational and break up with him. Yes, I have been upset with him for a long time, but deep down I just knew that we weren’t ready to end what we have going. Love requires patience and understanding and I’m not convinced that I gave him enough of that when we were having our problems. It takes two people to fight and it takes two people to have a loving relationship. It is very possible that I was a huge part of the problem as well. I am relieved that we are giving this one more chance.

Even more of a reason why I can’t do ANYTHING with Ahmad when I see him. Self-control, self-control, self-control.

Tonight we are auditioning two new girls to replace the one that had to be booted from the production. I PRAY that one of these girls will work out. We are six weeks away from opening night and we desperately need a ton of work. At this point, I am the only one who is memorized for the show. I understand that everyone has a lot going on in their lives and that we don’t have to be fully memorized until Monday, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a bit concerned. It is impossible for us to run whole scenes if there is even one person who is still working off of the script. It is inevitable that the new girl will be working with the lines in her hand for the first two weeks, which is even more of a reason why Kelly, Ian, and I have to have our shit together. It is our responsibility to pick up the slack. So yeah, I’m a bit concerned.

Tomorrow is Friday! FUCKING YAY.

It really couldn’t come fast enough.

(I love you poodle!)

Wellity, wellity, wellity…

It’s Wednesday! YaHOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Tonight I am going to see Freddy Vs. Jason!!! It’s like my favorite day of the year or something. I heard the movie is super good and I can’t wait to sit there and watch two of the classic monster men of my time battle the fuck out of each other. I don’t know yet if there is a winner in this match of doom, but personally, if there is, I want it to be Freddy. That fucker gave me nightmares for years. I was obsessed with him.

I remember one dream in particular.

I was waiting for the school bus at night with some friends. The bus pulled up, we all got on board and started driving to school. We hadn’t gotten a mile from my house when Freddy appeared outside the bus windows and was like “I’ll KEEL you”. Of course we all screamed and then everything goes a bit fuzzy. But I do remember that somehow Freddy fell inside of the bus engine and was turned into green puree. We all cheered and then got boners.
Or something. It was a long time ago.

We also came up with a game that we would play all the time. My brother and I would have friends over and we would play “Freddy”. Yeah, original name, I know. The details of the game were this: Everyone had to go into one room and pretend that they were sleeping. You would have to fake go to sleep so that you would wake up in the dreamworld….duh! When you woke up, you had to search through the pitch-black house for the kid who was playing Freddy Kruegar. We would all stick together and detail search the rooms, convinced that somehow the child playing Freddy would be able to hide in places that were just not possible for a little kid. But Freddy had POWERS, so you never know. It is the dreamworld after all. He could easily turn himself into the family dog and when you went to pet him…WHAM…all of your fingers get sliced off. (Children and their imaginations. SIKE. Adults and their imaginations.)

Once Freddy jumped out of his hiding spot, it was up to all of us to run as fast as we could back to the room that we started in and jump back into our designated sleeping positions so that we could wake up…alive. When you woke up, you would notice who was killed and who wasn’t by how many people were left in the room. The missing people obviously became helpers of Freddy until everyone was slashed and brutally murdered. It was just about the most fun game we created when we were little.

My brother and I were never actually allowed to watch the Nightmare on Elm Street movies when we were younger. My parents deemed them too horrifying for our fragile little minds. So we would wait until my parents went to bed and sneak down to watch them. I specifically remember sleeping on the very outermost edge of my bed, SO terrified that Freddy was going to stick his knife-wielding hand up through my mattress and into my gut. I slept that way for a year I think. Sometimes I still wonder if he’s coming for me.

Needless to say, the day can’t go fast enough. I want me some Freddy Vs. Jason and I want it now.

Ahmad and I are back in touch as of this morning. I called him during the blackout and he wrote me an email this morning. We have been exchanging notes back and forth all day. He is fully dating someone new…this guy Leo, whom I have mentioned before. When I asked Ahmad to describe Leo to me this morning, this is what he wrote:

Leo is around your height, but looks nothing like you. He has blond hair and big blue eyes. Things are not serious, we are just dating. I have only known him for about a month so we will see. He is a little pit bull since he wrestled in school. It is weird, because you call me Mahd, and he calls me Mahdy Mahd. I cant escape this nickname.

Perfectly acceptable description right?

This is what I wrote back about Leo:

Mahdy Mahd, eh? SNORE. sike. I will stick with the plain old "Mahd". He's a little pit bull? I don't picture that as being your type, but what do I know? You look way past the physical anything and go for the personality, so I am sure that he is a sweetheart of a guy. Good luck with him my man. I hope Freddy Krueger slashes his ugly face.

Ok, so I didn’t say anything about “his ugly face”, but I tried to be as open minded about it as I could. It was me who brought him up, so I couldn’t justifiably be too much of a dick about it. Either way…a wrestler?? I am kind of jealous. Cuz I want to date a wrestler. And I want Ahmad to like me still.

Yes, I realize that this is completely selfish. But this is my journal and I want him to like me.

Sorry, I just spanked myself for acting like such a spoiled child.

“Baby Joe can do no wrong.” --That was what all of my girls in school used to say about me. I have a big mouth and I do some fucked up things sometimes…yet “Baby Joe can do no wrong”.

In any case…I will try to be as mature and responsible with Ahmad’s feelings as I can.

Yeah right.

I live for me man.

Don’t we all live for me?

Holy shit.

It’s been such a chaotic last five days. I seriously feel as though the world must be blowing up. Otherwise, why would everyone and everything be so far out of my hands?

Let’s break it down:

1) Work is a mad house. I have so much to do and no time to do it. SO MUCH and NO TIME.
2) There are now auditions on Thursday to replace the girl that had to be booted from the show.
3) My friend, Jessica, came into town for 5 days. I saw her Saturday night and was unable to see her again due to the fact that the world is pretending to fall apart.
4) I got a KILLER migraine yesterday and put myself farther behind with everything. Instead I lay clutching my head for about 11 straight hours in a warm, completely dark room.
5) The power came on for me on Friday, but because of the outage, I was unable to go to the dermatologist, I lost all of the food that I just bought, AND my office was closed. Thus making the world start to fall apart.
6) My apartment was a revolving door all weekend. People in, people out, people all about. It was nuts and eventually I had to run away from it all.
7) The Theater Company has decided to lease their own rehearsal/performance space for the next couple of months. This is GREAT news for them, but it totally adds to the chaos. Kelly is thrilled with the space. I have yet to see it, but know that I will be spending the rest of the next two months there. The only thing that I wasn’t thrilled about is the fact that the space is in Brooklyn. Luckily it is only one subway stop into the borough, but my travel time to and from rehearsal has just increased by a half an hour each way. We will start going to this new space a week from today. I should climb in bed now and sleep, cuz Lord knows I won’t be sleeping again for the next 8 weeks.

So much! Eh?

Also, I am so broke. Like, penniless. It has been so hard to survive this month for some reason. While I am THRILLED to be going to the Poconos over Labor Day with my friends from college, I still don’t know how I am going to afford it. I have to talk to my friend Rita about it. My heart is pounding with debt fear and I don’t yet know how to handle it. She will make me feel better. She always does.

Now that I have spit all of that out…

The power outage, while being slightly irritating, was just about the coolest thing to happen in a while. NYC was drenched in blackness for a whole day! I ended up going over to Ari’s, drinking a bottle of wine, and catching a cab to my house around 12:30am. Talk about SPOOKY! Times Square was completely empty of both cars and people. It was like 28 Days Later cept with less human brain eating. You understand. Everyone banded together and treated like one big holiday. I wasn’t afraid for a second. It was an inconvenience for me, but was cushioned by the fact that everyone, regardless of economic status, race, sexual orientation, was stuck in the same position. It’s like the one time during life when we are all one in the same.

Since I had no power, I called everyone I knew when I got home, but no one was around. Probably in bed, since it was close to 1am when I finally made it into my apartment. I was convinced that there would be a killer hiding in my apartment when I got inside, but there wasn’t. Just rotting food and a freaked out cat. I threw both in the garbage and made my phone calls.

Hope everyone else is doing well. I feel so out of the loop.

Time to get my work done and jump back in.

GAH!

Oh. And also

ACK!

WHY is it that EVERY time we all go out to the bars, there is an excessive amount of drama?? I just don’t get it. It literally follows us.

Mariah and I showed up at The Hangar around 7pm last night and were unimpressed from the get go. The bar itself was very dark and covered in red lighting. The people were no younger than 47 years old and each of the guys made sure to wear their dirtiest wife beaters. Too bad the amount of wrinkles and flabby arms deterred me from staring at all the bodies. The one good thing is that the happy hour goes until 9pm and it was 2 for 1! I must have downed at least 5 vodka tonics in 2 hours. I was drinking so fast that I had to switch to Baileys. Embarrassing yes, but worth it not to puke? Yes again.

The MINUTE Mariah and I walked into the bar, the “bouncer” (bouncer? hahahaha…he had flames shooting directly out of his ASS) gave us a hard time. He stared at us throughout the duration of the evening and at one point, followed us into the bathroom. Mariah asked him “Why are you watching us and following us around the bar?” His reply was “Cuz I know that you two are going to have sex in my restroom”. WHA?!?!?! Fucking toolbag. It seems that every time Mariah and I go out, we have such a hard time dealing with the other people at the bar. Either they can’t stop putting their hands all over us or they are unbelievably cruel to us because they think we’re straight. It’s fucking frustrating. I was always told that gay men were SO accepting. Fuck that noise.

The straw that broke Mariah’s back was when the “bouncer” came over to her and asked her to “Stop dancing”. When we burst out laughing IN his face, he got the manager and we were told that “dancing was prohibited”. What a fucking LAME place! A bunch of people met us at the bar, I ended up dropping my empty glass on the floor and smashing in right in front of the “bouncer”, Mariah got yet ANOTHER reaming by the fuckhead manager and we knew that it was time to go. On the way out, I looked the “bouncer” right in his ugly face and told him that he "was a disappointment to the gay community” while Paul spit on the floor.

Yet, I still don’t know why poor little us come in contact with so much drama.
hahahaSnarf.

Needless to say, we will NEVER be going back to The Hangar.

Things that I am excited about:

Going to the dermatologist tomorrow! Finally my face will be BEEYOUTIFULL and free of rash-like bullshit.

Starting a semi-regular routine of going out to the gay bars with a group of gay guys. My friend Ian and I are organizing the group and I am so happy to finally be able to have some gay guys to hang out with. I mean, every good gay needs a group like this.

Paul and I are treating each other with respect and kindness. Things are going better than they ever have before. Line of communication = fully open now.

Getting SO much work done at my job this week.

The fact that I am already fully memorized for the play. And as far as I know, the first one to do so.

Got to talk to my brother yesterday for a HALF AN HOUR! The conversation was incredible.

Things that I am NOT excited about:

The back up for Robyn’s part in the show, Ingrid, will be unable to do the role. Now the company will have to re-hold all new auditions because the rest of the girls that had tried out are either not good enough for the part or don’t fit into it in any way.

Had grilled cheese and fries for lunch. It wasn’t my fault though. I promise. I went with my friend, Ian, and he told me that I should get it. I blame him for my jelly rolls…er…belly rolls.

Well, that’s a short list! And surely a good sign that things are going well.

Before I go…I am going to give a brief synapses of The Osbournes season finale so that if you don’t have cable or live on another planet, you will be filled in on what happened Tuesday night. If you don’t want to know, then now is your chance to leave my page and move on out.

SYNAPSES

Seems that Jack Osbourne has a sleepwalking problem. He explains, for the first half of the episode, that he has been having violent sleepwalking attacks where he hurts anyone that wakes him up, etc. This is further proved by film documentation.

Kelly gets into a HUGE fight with her mother that results in the two of them parting ways as manager and client. There is a ton of screaming by Kelly culminating in her HYSTERICALLY dramatic exit from the Osbourne household. Picture her wearing a black wig, tons of make-up and sunglasses, all the while throwing her packed suitcases down the stairs. The entire time, no one notices, although Kelly is pouring her soul into the performance.

One night, Jack is sleeping in his bed. He seems to wake up and notice Minnie (Sharon’s favorite dog) standing next to his bed. Without any hesitation, he grabs Minnie in his arm and pulls her into his bed. At that point, we see him struggle (slightly out of view of the camera) with Minnie and we hear the dog crying for help. Jack twists Minnie’s neck and kills her.

The next morning Jack wakes up to find Minnie’s dead body in his bed. He responds by saying “whoa”. He gets out of bed, somehow wraps up Minnie in a blanket and shoves the dead body in a duffle bag. All the while, Sharon and Ozzy are running around the house screaming Minnie’s name. “Minnie where ARE you? MINNIE!”

Jack is seen running down the stairs and out of the Osbourne house, duffel bag in tow.

A couple of minutes later, the phone rings and Ozzy answers.

Jack: “Dad, I’ve done something really fucked up.”
Ozzy: “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”
J: “Dad, I’ve killed Minnie.”
O: “Wha…wha…(jumbled ex-heroine addict talk)…I…uh…”
J: “Dad, I killed Minnie while I was sleeping. I don’t…I…dad…”
O: “You better not be pulling my leg Jack. This isn’t funny. Jack…”
J: “Dad, Minnie is dead. Don’t tell mom. Please don’t tell her.”
O: “But I have to tell her. Jack I have to tell your mother.”
J: “Oh god dad, Minnie is dead.”

They hang up and the next scene is Ozzy confronting Sharon:

Ozzy: “Sharon, I have terrible news.”
Sharon: “What is it Ozzy? What is it?”
O: “Sharon, Minnie is dead. Minnie is dead.”
S: “You’re just trying to round (wind?) me up. You’re just trying to wind me up.”
O: “Sharon, Minnie is dead. Jack killed Minnie. Minnie is dead.”
S: “Minnieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
O: (Crying and shaking uncontrollably) Sharon, I am so sorry. Sharon, Minnie is dead!”
S: MINNIE!

Next scene

Sharon packs up everything that reminds her of Minnie, kisses Ozzy on the forehead, while he’s sleeping, and leaves the house.

The phone rings and Ozzy answers:

O: “Sharon, where are you?”
S: “I had to leave the house. Everything there reminds me of Minnie. I need some time alone.”
O: “Sharon, come home. Sharon please.”
S: “Ozzy, I need to be by myself. I need to be away from the house right now.”
O: (borderline hysterical again) “Sharon don’t do anything dangerous. Sharon don’t do anything dangerous.”
S: “I need to be away from the house.”
O: “Sharon don’t do anything dangerous. Sharon I love you.”
--click—

So, we, the audience, sit staring at the television in complete horror. It was like a nation-wide moment of horrified silence. Everyone processing it in a different way.

After Ozzy gets off the phone with Sharon, he attempts to change the television station. He is unsuccessful and goes to walk up the stairs. That’s when the director calls “Cut!”. The camera pans around and Kelly and Jack are there and Minnie is being held by Sharon! (Although Minnie looked like she had grown by 50 pounds) The show was over and it was all a hoax.

But you tell ME that you didn’t believe in it as it was happening.

Personally, I think that they did this episode, not to make everyone think that the whole show was faked, but to let everyone know how influential the editing of a TV show really is. We, as members of the watching audience, are convinced that everything we see is for real; that we are seeing directly into their house, into their lives. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. We are only seeing what MTV wants us to see, what MTV wants us to know about the Osbournes. It was their way of reminding us that it is still a television show, afterall.

I LOVED the episode. It was, probably, the most ingenious 30 minutes of television that I have seen over the last couple of months. The whole thing was SO believable. I heard that Sharon, Jack, and Kelly were playing a joke on Ozzy and that’s how the idea of the show came about. Interesting…especially since I took so much more away from it than that.

You must see it in person. But if for some reason you are unable to, I hope this synapses did the episode justice.

It was so unreal. The whole thing.

Happy watching!

Kelly and I hung out last night and had a few drinks together. We haven’t done that in a long time and it was pretty fun. It gave us a chance to catch up on things that have been on our mind. And it gave her the chance to tell me of something horrible that happened with our show.

Turns out that the girl that we cast in the show, Robyn, is a member of Actor’s Equity. This means that she is in the theater union. Actor’s that are in Equity are not allowed to do any show that isn’t sponsored by Equity. There are a million rules and guidelines when an actor is in this union. Usually it’s a great benefit, but in this case it is not good at all. Our director, Megan, had to call Robyn at home last night and tell her that she is no longer in the show. Robyn told Megan that she “had to get off the phone because she was going to start crying.” We all felt horrible for Robyn and horrible for ourselves. I mean, we have rehearsed for a month together and now we have to cast a new girl in her place.

Robyn should have known of the Equity rules before she auditioned for the play. I am absolutely stunned that she was unaware of the guidelines. Kelly’s friend, Ingrid, is going to take her place. Hopefully. Ingrid is an excellent actress, although not the first choice for the part. She will do a great job if she decides to take it, but it’s going to be crunch time trying to catch her up to speed. Honestly, having to recast this part is about the last thing any of us want to deal with right now. Stupid Robyn and her stupid Actor’s Equity card.

Did you SEE The Osbournes last night?? I mean, did you??? Holy FUCK! In my opinion, it was the BEST episode that I have seen over the last three seasons. I so badly want to tell everyone what happened, but I don’t want to give it away, just in case there are a few people slow on the uptake. Everyone that I have talked to about it has a different opinion on what it all meant. Personally, I think that the family wanted everyone to see how influential the editing of a show really is. You can’t always believe everything you see on TV. And how often do we all take this for granted? I certainly do. If you put a slice of cheese on television and tell me that it’s actually a slice of dark chocolate, well, I would believe you. Why wouldn’t I? And how dare you lie to me.

My favorite part of the episode could very well be Kelly Osbourne packing up her shit to move out. With her wig and sunglasses on, she looked like Judy Garland post alcoholic breakdown. It was unreal and fucking awesome. Especially when the truth was revealed. WHAT A GREAT SHOW! Joe CuttheShit gives it four dicks straight up!

Meeting up with Mariah after work for some drinks. We are going to place called The Hangar. I have yet to go to this gay bar and to be honest, am slightly scared of it. When I checked it out online, it looked like the crowd was compiled of ex-cons who decided to dedicate their entire existence to the leather lifestyle. Yikes. Here comes Joe and Mariah, two of the prettiest, most UNTHREATENING people on the planet to have some vodka tonics. Wish me luck. I plan to be either raped or murdered in the first five minutes. Eh…as long as the drinks are cheap.
And as long as the fucks are long and hard.

Why I Love French Fries

You go so well with crumbly bleu cheese.
You look so cute sitting atop my knees.
You taste so good slathered in Mayo
I laugh out loud when you say “Heyo!”

My friend, my love, the dear french fry,
The hope of marrying you could make me cry.
Your truthful nature, your loving embrace,
Fruits and veggies vanish without a trace.

I aspire to your incredible heights of glory
I knew a girl in school named Dory.
Dory was a nice and ugly lesbian
Who didn’t eat french fries, so the end.


Man, I gotta shit. So bad.

I love you, you love me, homo-sexu-ali-ty!

Enjoy whatever the nighttime brings.

I was minding my own business, taking a casual stroll to get my haircut…

My discman was blaring TLC’S latest disc, 3D, and I had a cigarette in my mouth. Out of nowhere, this psycho scumbag steps in front of me and goes “Give me a cigarette”. I didn’t even see him approach and it took me off guard. I replied “No man. Sorry”. I never broke stride once, yet the man followed on my heels and said forcefully “Give me a cigarette”. When I kept walking and ignoring him, he took his hand and smacked me extremely hard on the back. Without even thinking, I whirled around and shoved him hard…right on to his ass. “Don’t EVER fucking touch me mother FUCKER!” He stared at me, eyes gaping, while lying on the ground. I turned and kept walking. Unafraid.

For the next 5 blocks or so, it took all of the strength I had in my body to keep my hands from shaking uncontrollably. I don’t like physical confrontation of ANY kind, but fuck if I am going to let ANYONE shove me around in this city. I feel bad for knocking this dickhead on the ground, but I also feel justified. God, I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was jamming out to TLC, the next minute I knocked some dude on his ass. Damn, I’m ruff and tuff with my afro puffs.

Had a very uneventful weekend. Sort of. I did see The Hours, which blew my mind. I also saw Punch-Drunk Love, which solidified my belief that Paul Thomas Anderson is the BEST and most INGENIUS director out there. And finally, I saw Deliver Us From Eva and was horribly disappointed that LL Cool J only took off his shirt once. AND he was covered by the bedsheet the whole time. FUCKING LAME! Oh yeah and I attempted to watch Wes Craven’s They but I got so frustrated with it that I didn’t even finish watching it. Now, besides all of the movies I saw this weekend…

Paul came over on Saturday night and we had our talk.

The minute I told him that I thought we should “take a break”, he said “Fine” and got up to leave. When I grabbed his arm and made him sit down to talk about it all, he burst into tears and sobbed for awhile. He told me that he “hates himself” right now and has for a very long time. He admits to treating me poorly and knows that he doesn’t deserve me. He talked long and hard about his parents, his life in NYC, his failure at our relationship, and his imploding restaurant career.

When he was finished, I held him for a long time.

I told Paul that I am very much in love with him, but think we should take a break because we are slowly destroying each other. Paul acknowledges this and said that he “understands” if I need to be away from him. I told him that I didn’t want to do that at all, that what I really wanted was to have my boyfriend back, the guy that I fell so hard for 3 and a half years ago. Paul promised to work harder on making me happy. He promised that he will do his best to make me first priority and to treat me with nothing less than kindness. Paul promised that I won’t have to wonder if I should be with him anymore.

I took all of what he said with a grain of salt. While I would love to believe him, I know how unlikely it is that he will turn it all around. And if he doesn’t, he is now prepared for me to leave him.

The rest of Saturday night went very well and when we woke up on Sunday morning, we made beautiful love to together. I KNOW! 3rd time since January! Cept that this time, I felt it. Our kisses were real and not forced. His touch made me melt and his arm around me made me feel like he really loved my body, my heart, and my soul. I came within minutes.

So, the Paul and Joe saga is far from closed. We will continue on together, cuz that’s what people in love do. But I have definitely learned some lessons from this whole thing and I am a bit less scared about having to leave him, if the time for that should come. I appreciate all of the support that my friends have given me throughout this rough time period in my life. Without that support, I might have done something totally irrational. I have been known, you know?

Tonight Paul and I are celebrating our talk with a bottle of champagne and a nice dinner in the East Village. I am pretty excited. Pedro was right about us communicating better. Even though we talk all the time, we don’t necessarily talk all the time. I have to work on keeping that line of communication open. As long as he keeps working on himself.

The two boys, together again.

The reason I'm in love with Paul is simple.

I know him.

I can read him. I have learned what there is to know about him. I can predict his moods, his words, his thoughts.
I know what makes him happy and conversely I know what makes him sad. I know what Paul is capable of and because of this I am often disappointed by everything I have come to know.

What do I love most?

There is no fear with Paul. I'm 100% convinced that Paul is in love with me. I'm completely sure that Paul has found the guy he
wants to be with for the rest of his life. There is no doubt in my mind that Paul would do anything he could to hold on to me. It took
me a while to catch on to this, for me to figure out his pattern. Paul has always been a challenge for me. I was never sure what
priority I was in his life. It made me have to work for the relationship. It forced me to forego all of my previous stigmas. No one before Paul has made me want to sacrifice my happiness. No one before Paul has made me as obsessed as I have been in the past. Obsessed with being the perfect boyfriend.

As much as I'd like to believe that Paul and I have an open line of communication, I am now starting to think that it's just the
opposite. We have so much anger in our relationship resulting from numerous bad experiences that we have encountered along
the way. Mariah told me today that Paul said that "the Bahamas trip was the best time that Joe and I could have ever had. It was
the time of my life." If he believes this way, then how can I sit here and say that Paul deserves to be dropped on his ass? Why do
I think that I'm at all justified in causing this breakup?

Yes, I am unsatisfied. It's been 8 months since we've made love and I can't even begin to explain how much that hurts me. He
doesn't shower me with praise and he never surprises me with fun things. He doesn't ask how my day was and he doesn't verbally
support me in any of my endeavors. Paul does not put his arm around me when I am sad. I can't cry with Paul and feel comfortable about it.

He doesn't buy me a pair of shoes when the soles of my shoes are completely deteriorated. Paul is inconsistent with his attentiveness to our relationship. He can go a full week without calling me once. It's common for him to go away for a weekend and never call me once. Paul doesn't like to get out of the house or do anything spontaneious. He doesn't want to party with me. He doesn't want to do anything crazy. And worst of all, he doesn't have fun with me when we are in a group of people. Paul and I aren't a team. Never have been.

These are the things that I need to say to Paul when we have our final conversation about the future of our relationship.

I am ready.

I am ready to be single. I am ready to live my life for me now. I am ready to be the Joe CuttheShit that I meant to be when I
graduated from college. I have dreams. I have hopes and desires (luv u reets) and I have things that I want to do and
experience in my life. I didn't move to NYC (one of the BIGGEST cities in the world) to sit around and not enjoy it. To sit in
my room at night and be afraid of the good things that are coming my way.

I don't see how any conversation with Paul could save our relationship. There isn't much that he can say that will give me a new perspective on...us. I don't see how there is any difference between our relationship and our friendship. There is a popular term in the gay community for lesbians who stay together too long, much longer than was necessary for either person. This term is Lesbian Deathbed. While Paul and I aren't lesbians (surprised?), we are stuck in the worst "deathbed" I've ever seen. We are destroying eachother. Not helping or changing. Fucking lesbians and their damn deathbed.

I always thought that when I broke up with my first "real boyfriend" it would be because one of us fucked up; that one of us would have cheated on the other person or killed their mother or knocked their teeth out. But it's not like that all the time. This time, two boys who are very much in love with each other can't figure out how to have a stable, supportive, and edifying relationship. It's very sad. More than that, it's heartbreaking.

These are all of the things I need to say to Paul when we have our conversation. The reason why I haven't wanted to confront it up until now is simple. As simple as me being in love with him.

I love Paul more than I want to hurt him.

Yet, there is truth to the theory of living for oneself. Loving yourself so that you can love someone else. If the person you're with doesn't make you love yourself, then it's time to rethink the whole situation.

It could be time to find my roots and move on.

Here's to hoping that all the dicks and pussies in the world have a great weekend!

Enjoy!

I got advice today from the most unlikely of people.

I was outside having a cigarette during my morning smoke break when the front desk attendant of my building came out and sat next to me. At first I was a little irritated because I just wanted to sit by myself, smoke my butt, and clear my head. When Pedro came out he sat down and lit up his smoke.

“What’s wrong Joe? You don’t seem like yourself lately.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“Oh come on, you can’t fool me my man. Your face is dragging on the ground. Things with Paul ok?”

I looked at Pedro for a minute and instead of replying with my usual “No, everything’s fine”, I decided to tell him what’s going on.

“I think Paul and I are going to break up. Things haven’t been going well for a while now and I’m afraid that I am going to have to cut things off with him.”

I explained in further detail as he listened to me with complete interest. After I finished speaking, Pedro told me a story about he and his wife, Marilyn. He explained that although they have been married for decades, they have had numerous moments of calling it quits. But the one thing that always seemed to save their relationship was the fact that they could sit down and have a serious and open conversation about their problems. He advised me to sit down with Paul and to talk to him. At least one last time. “You never know what could come out of the conversation, Joe. He could surprise you.” “But Pedro, I have had numerous conversations with him about our problematic relationship. Why should I have to do it again?” “Because you committed 3 years of your life to him, Joe. If you truly love him or did love him at one point, you owe it to both of you to have one more open conversation before you call it quits. He may not fully understand why you are so hurt.”

I appreciated Pedro sitting with me and giving me the advice that he did. I took everything he said and digested it throughout the day. Since I have always been someone who needs to make a decision about things as quickly as possible, I have had unending ahgida over confronting this head on. I feel a bit better now. It was nice to have someone tell me that I should give Paul the chance to explain himself. I am very influenced by my friends and most of them have told me to cut Paul loose, which in all reality is probably what will happen. But I liked having someone give me the other perspective. I will be going into this conversation with Paul with an open mind. And that’s what’s most important.

Rita called me yesterday, despite my vain attempts to hide from her. She always senses when I’m not doing well and yesterday she broke through my wall and got in touch with me. As soon as I answered the phone I opened up my heart and told her everything that was bothering me. Luckily I only started to cry once. Rita has this way of pulling everything out of me. I just open up and spill my guts. She is so good with me too. She supports me in everything that I say and helps me come up with different solutions to the problem. After talking to her for 40 minutes yesterday, I felt somewhat healed. God I miss her so much. This break-up situation wouldn’t be nearly as difficult if I had her still living in NYC with me.
Paul has Saturday night off from work. I am going to call him tonight and ask him to have dinner with me. It will be then that I have the conversation with him about our relationship. Worst case scenario, I throw my drink in his face and storm out. (oh how part of me would LOVE to have that happen)

And now for my dear friend Wahini:

Peanut Butter Goodness

There was a day when I grew up
And left my peanut friend behind.
He waved goodbye with solemn tears
Chewing on a melon rind.

“Why don’t you love me any more?”
I heard Peanut say.
“Cuz you make my belly fat and gross,
My ass and teeth decay.”

“But I taste good with chocolate kisses”,
Peanut begged me “Please”.
“Begging is unsightly jerkoff.
I have to take a pee.”

“There is no reason for you to yell
You hurt my feelings bad”
“You fucking talking peanut man
My goal’s to make you sad.”

With that last word, my peanut friend
Turned his back and left.
He walked real slow and bowed his head
I left him sad, bereft.

You see peanut man and his butter wife
Had stole my lively hood.
I once was pretty, thin, and cute
Like most true gay boys should.

But after years of spreading them
All over my sand-whiches
Peanut man and butter wife
Became my nemesisses.

Today I stay away from peanuts
Salted or cashewed.
Cuz saturated fat ain’t nice
In fact it’s rather rude.

------written and copyrighted by Joe Cut the Shit.


Have a great night ya’ll!

Sew…

Kelly and I have bugs in our apartment. Lots of them. Big ones. Gross ones. Ugly, scary, horrifying ones. According to everyone we have talked to, they are water bugs. They are MUCH bigger than cockroaches and they look more evil. When I got home on Saturday night from my vacation, I was lucky enough to have one jump on my leg. It was about the most disgusting and terrifying thing to happen to me since I have lived in NYC. Kelly found a bug in her bedroom on Sunday night and since then she has not slept at the apartment.

Our exterminator came yesterday to seal off every hole and crack in our walls and near our pipes. Today they are supposed to come again and spray the fuck out of the place. Please God let these bugs either die or crawl back to the hell they came from. It is SO nasty to live in a space that is infested with creepy crawlers. From what Ian (the guy I’m in the show with) has said, these water bugs live in the walls of the buildings. They feast on cockroaches (which is a good thing) and very rarely come out of the walls. He said that if you step on a water bug right after they have eaten, a full cockroach will pop out of their mouth. Fucking yikes. If I ever have to experience that shit, I will vomit on myself and let it dry. Just to take my mind off the situation.

Kelly just called me and told me that the exterminator has come and taken care of business. Phucking phew.

My mom got me some new CDs! I am now the proud owner of TLC’S final CD “3D”, among others. When I played the album this morning for the first time, I almost started to cry as I walked to the subway. I hate the fact that Lisa Lopez is dead. I hate it. Almost as much as I hate that Nell Carter is dead. You understand.

The Truth About Dicks and Balls
(Loosely based on The Truth About Cats & Dogs)

My dick is hard
From all the jerks.
My balls are tight
It’s filled with spurts.

Dicks are nice
Hard and firm
When tugged on lightly
It makes me squirm.

Finger the hole
And get a slap
Why would you do that?
Do you like crap?

My cum is salty
It tastes like cream
You just need cookies
A dessert and dream.

This poem is Lame
Yet caused me to smile
Not talking about Paul
At least for awhile.

Off to rehearsal!

Thank GOD I have acting back in my life. Just when I needed it the most.

Another day…

I have been so productive at work, it’s almost scaring me. I usually like to get in as much play time as possible, but lately, I haven’t had a free second to do anything. My journal reading has decreased to a bare minimum and my e-mail responses have stopped altogether. This is one of the busiest times of the year for me. The students return in 3 weeks and everything must be completed and ready by then. Really, the only relaxing thing I do during the day is write in my journal. Well, lunch is pretty relaxing too. Unless I’m fighting my pizza urges. Then things can get quite hairy. Or…cheesy. Depends on how you like your pizza. I prefer black and curly.

I got a letter from my brother today. It was kind of smarmy. I had sent him some of my journal for leisure reading and he writes, “I don’t know how you can divulge so much personal information on the internet. I find it funny because I know you. I guess these strangers find you funny too, although I’m not sure why. Do they get off on stories of burning assholes?” Ok, prick, I know you are in a war and all, but back off. EVERYONE that I know loves stories of burning assholes. Maybe military men are too serious for my sense of humor. Snore. I wrote him back as soon as I got to work and told him that if he would rather sit and read ARMY paraphernalia all day, that’s fine with me. I will save my journal for people who don’t have sticks shoved up their asses. Or burning cigarettes for that matter.

I’ve thought long and hard about what to do about my situation with Paul. I’ve come to this conclusion: I have no idea what to do or when to do what I should do, but I can’t do it now. Nice having closure, huh? I’ve gone from anger to sadness and every time I hear his voice on the phone, I feel as though I am holding back the biggest secret of my life. He knows that I am not happy in the relationship and I have mentioned breaking up a couple of times, but I don’t think he realizes how serious I am this time. Maybe because I have already broken up with him twice before and took him back after a month of begging and pleading.

Paul is very much in love with me. I know this. Er…I think I know this. He doesn’t want to make love to me, but at this point, I don’t want him to touch me either. We have a great friendship going, but the minute I tell him that I think we should “break up”, our friendship of a relationship will fall apart. I know it. He won’t be able to be my friend and in some ways, I don’t know if I will be able to be his either. I’ve never been able to be friends with my ex’s. It seems virtually impossible. With so much residual anger, I don’t see how either one of us could tolerate the other person.

They say that it takes half the time you’ve been with someone to get over them. Paul and I have been together for 3 years and 8 months. Does that mean that I have to wait until 2005 before I can fully put this to rest? The idea of it makes me vomitous.

I have said repeatedly in the past that I am not scared to be single, that I am not afraid to be alone. I have wonderful friends and a full support system through them. But as the reality of all of this starts to clear up in my head, I am starting to recognize how scared I truly am. It’s not like Paul and I are a team, the way that most couples are… It’s not like I only have Paul in NYC to be around and to hang out with… It’s not like Paul does much besides tear me down…
But there is something to be said for being in a relationship. No one in my life knows me the way that Paul does. Sure my friends know more details about my life than he does, but only he knows my behavior. Only Paul knows me when my guard is completely down. And he takes advantage of that. But at the same time, I trust that whatever comes out of my mouth with Paul will be taken with a grain of salt. I could never destroy him with my words. I am allowed to be myself without regard for anyone else. I can be selfish.

I will miss this aspect the most. Boyfriends/girlfriends/husbands/wives…your partner knows a side of you that only love can bring. I don’t want to lose this familiarity. I don’t want to lose this luxury.

Yet, it’s quite a toss up. What’s more important? This one simple luxury or a world free of antagonism, anger, and frustration?

It will be a while before I can confront this conversation with the people in my personal life. I find myself lying to those around me, telling them that everything is fine. I want to deal with this alone right now. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want advice and I don’t want any pressure from anyone. Not that I have gotten any of that, but I can’t figure out how to talk to my friends about this, without having them tell me what I already know.

“Do what’s right for you.”

I know. I know. I know. I know.

But if I break up with Paul this time, there is no going back. We will be done forever and I will have lost someone that I have dedicated 3 years of my life to. The answer is simple, the execution is impossible.

Selfishly, I just need more time.

WELL!

I am home. Safe and sound. And with a pretty great tan, if I do say so myself. I worked hard at it. Spent every day on the beach. Ate lots of food and even gambled a bit. I won $150 one evening at the casino and that was quite a highlight for me since I am usually living a life based on poverty. Overall, it was a VERY relaxing week and I feel truly rested and rejuvenated.

I should be able to sit here and type for hours about all of the adventures I had and all of the crazy shit that happened to Paul and me while we were living it up. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. As the plane landed in the Bahamas, Paul decided that he is no longer a drinker. Funny, since he blacked out from too much vodka on the Thursday before we left. Paul also decided that he is no longer a pot smoker, cept that he smoked every bit of the pot that I bought while there. Paul also decided that he doesn’t smoke cigarettes, cept that he smoked every pack I brought down with me. Gosh.

While the trip was totally relaxing and while Paul and I didn’t fight barely at all while in the Bahamas, the trip wasn’t that much fun. I was in bed by 11pm every night. Paul didn’t want to do ANYTHING. He wanted to go to the beach, make dinner at home, and watch TV. And that’s what we did. I catered to his every whim while we were there. I didn’t want us to spend the week arguing, so I sucked it up and did whatever he wanted to do. However, now that I am home, I hate him for it. I hate him especially since he has spent the two nights since we have been home, drinking. Yet when I drank a few beers each night of the vacation, I got an ear full of reprimands. Hypocrite fuck.

Paul and I barely even kissed on the mouth while we were there. Romance was not even a factor. It was like two boys…wait…two BORING boys hanging out in the Caribbean, catching up on episodes of Will and Grace and Friends. I know I said that I would do whatever I wanted to do on the trip, despite what Paul had to say, but when it came down to it, I just couldn’t. The native people were pretty aggressive and did everything in their power to rob us of all of our money. They were mean and nasty. Freeport (the island of Grand Bahama) is a third world country and the people are direct products of their environment. It was scary to go out and tool the island by yourself and even more importantly, I don’t understand why Paul couldn’t take the step down and do what I wanted to do. At least to get out of the room more than we did.

You ask him if we had a great time on the trip and he will surely say yes. Basically because he did everything he wanted to do. Go to the beach, make dinner in our suite, and be in bed watching TV by 7pm every night.

God, I so don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve barely told anyone about the trip. I think I’m not ready to confront it yet. Still stings a little.

Don’t get me wrong…I didn’t have a terrible time at all. It just wasn’t the kind of trip that I get off on.
It was very relaxing. What else can I say?

Paul just came and had lunch with me at work. It made me sad. Knowing that we are cruising for a heart breaking break-up. It’s inevitable. I’m sure of it now. And I just can’t talk about it at the moment.

Got a week of rehearsals and work ahead of me. I was in a great mood before Paul came for lunch. Now, I feel like I could burst into tears. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want ME to hurt either.

But how long can I keep this relationship going? Is it really time for us to call it quits? I’m confused about love and I’m confused about relationships. After this one, I feel like I never want one ever again. I’ve been living on the theory that I just need to take everything day by day. But does an answer ever come that way? Am I just putting off something I need to take care of? Should I let it continue to see how it turns out?

God, my head is swimming with confusion.

Work is over now.

I should go home.