Cut the Shit

Have a FANTASTIC weekend everyone!

My Most Favoritest Day!

Today is my most favoritest day ever! Or at least, today is my most favorite day…today.

The weather is beautiful in NYC and MONDAY is over, which is clearly the best part of the whole week!

For lunch I am going to read my new book and sit and have some wine and just enjoy myself. There is this restaurant up where I work that I’ve been to about a gazillion times and I’ve become friends with one of the servers. She and I talk for a minute and she brings me free wine the entire time. I eat my $5 cheeseburger and read away and when I walk out, I feel so good! And that’s not just because of the wine. There are few things that I love to do by myself in this city and this is definitely one of them.

I’m in a rocking good mood today. I’ve been having a terrible time sleeping lately and last night was my first foray into the world of Lunesta. I drifted off to sleep rather easily and woke up feeling like a million bucks. Seriously…I woke up about 10 minutes before my alarm went off and I jumped out of bed and went “Yahooooooooooooooooo!” Paul was like “What’s the deal?” I bounded into the living room with as much energy as my puppy and started my day. I wish I could feel this good every morning!

Last night Paul ordered us a $70 dinner. Who ORDERS a $70 dinner? Sometimes I fully realize that I’m spoiled by him and then I realize that I’m worth it.

We had Shrimp Po’ Boys, Buffalo wings and the nastiest hummus plate I’ve ever tasted. Then when we were done, Paul went to the store and bought cookie dough so we could make ice cream sandwiches. We sat and talked and ate for hours. He was making me laugh my ass off. We were both in good moods and the jokes were flying back and forth. I just adored every thing about him last night.

On Sunday I said to him “I’m gonna blow you”. We haven’t hooked up together in over a year, so when those words came out of my mouth he was like “WHAAAAAA?” I sucked away for a couple of minutes and even made moaning noises. But he went soft and I said “I’m bored”. I wiped my mouth and we decided to watch a movie. End scene.

Bo Bice is playing on my Itunes Radio right now. That’s just about the lamest, sickest shit I ever done heard. Can American Idol die already? I mean, SNORES! It’s one thing to have to read about it and see it all over my television. Why do I have to listen to it on my radio as well? These people are jokes. And not the funny kind.

On the flip side, Big Love, on HBO, is outstanding. I watched a repeat of Sunday night’s episode with Paul last night and on second viewing, I loved it even more. The acting and writing is just fantastic. In the past, Bill Paxton has been my nemesis. But on this show, he’s fucking great. And I’d even go so far as to say that he’s sexy. Shit. I can’t believe those words actually came out of my fingers. But tis true.

Lately, every time I take a drink of a liquid, I have an aftertaste of ashes in my mouth. It’s pretty nasty and doesn’t at ALL make me think I should quit smoking. Not even for a second.

I’m having one of those days where I feel totally adorable. And I’m not even wearing one of my better looking pair of jeans. But my confidence level is high and I feel strong. My doctor’s assistant called me this morning and was an absolute cunt for no reason and it didn’t even shake me. I stayed pleasant with her on the phone and then hung up on her before she could hang up on me. Little things like that feel so triumphant. As though I would win a prize for being the ultimate bitch.

I had to send my mom my tax information this morning. Every year I say I’ll figure it out myself, but then I end up 3 weeks away from the deadline and have to send it off to her. She likes it tho. It makes her feel like I’m her 28 year old baby. She’ll probably even breast feed me when I get home. I always cough on the powder. It’s unsightly.

In any case…happy TUESDAY!

Making the Right Choice

One of the things I deal with in therapy is trying to figure out what the point of life really is. Now I realize that this is a question that plagues most people, however, my take on it is a little more specific.

I don’t wonder or worry about what’s going to happen to me when I die. My faith in Jesus is incredibly strong, so as far as that’s concerned, I consider myself covered. But when it comes to the way I should live my life during my time on Earth, I’m pretty confused as to what’s most important. I mean, I know that I should be kind and generous with both my time and money. I know I should be a good man on all accounts. But when it comes to career and life choices - that’s where I get all fucked up.

Overwhelmingly, I’m torn between two aspects of my life. The first aspect is the pit in my stomach that will never be filled until I’m a working, successful actor. It’s the only thing I’ve ever loved and it’s a big part of what makes me, me. I think about it obsessively every day and have gone so far as to discount wonderful experiences in my life purely because nothing is as fulfilling to me as stepping on the stage.

The other aspect is my desire and need to be close to my family and friends. If life is about the people, then why would anyone spend any time away from those they loved? Why do I even have to have a job or a career at all? If this is my one chance at life, then why wouldn’t I spend the entire time with the people that mean the most to me?

I realize that I have to pay bills and that I have “responsibilities” as an adult, but when I really think about it, I don’t understand why. Why is our society so obsessed with success? Why can’t it be obsessed with family, lovers, and friends? Why do any of us spend our valuable time commuting to work, going on business trips, and attending functions that ultimately separate us from the most important people in our life?

Quite often I think that I’ll just throw in the towel on this whole career thing and move back upstate to quiet Albany, NY. I’ll have weeknight dinners with my parents. On the weekends, I would take trips to the towns where my friends live and we would party and watch movies and just enjoy each other’s company. Then on Sunday I would go back to Albany to be with my family – talking, growing, and enjoying every second.

When I’m 75 years old and wondering how the hell I’m still alive, I’m sure that the last thing on my mind will be that great commercial or movie I did back in the day. What I’ll really wish is that I had more time to go on adventures with the people that I might never see again.

There isn’t any right or wrong answer to this type of a question. I guess you have to come up with the answer that suits you best. The problem is that personally, I have no idea what suits me best yet. Do I want a family or do I want a career? I can have both, but I would always feel like I was slighting one for the other. If I knew that Paul was going to die tomorrow, wouldn’t I spend every waking minute of today talking and hugging and holding him?

Yet without any sort of timeline, we live each day as though we’ve got a million more. I guess I’m most afraid to make the wrong choice and to spend my later years wishing I had done things a little differently.

An Update (of the Tyler kind)

While I was hanging out with my friend Kelly last night, I realized that my puppy is now 6 months old. When the hell did THAT happen? I’ve had him for about 3 and a half months so far and he’s still only 7 pounds. He’s just about full grown, yet he still looks like a tiny baby. I always wanted a dog that was going to be little, but not “teacup” little. My clumsy ass would totally squish him whenever I sat on the couch.

In the beginning, I did not love the dog in the way that I had hoped I would. He was a lot of work and it was a complete change in lifestyle with having him around. No longer could Paul and I be away from the apartment for more than 5 hours at a time. If we did, Tyler would scream and bark to high heaven. Luckily none of our neighbors have complained yet, but when I walk off the elevator in my building and hear his howling, I cringe.

He’s such a smart little guy. When I talk to him, he makes direct eye contact and tries his damndest to figure out what I’m saying. He will cock his head to the side as if I’m speaking a foreign language that he wants so badly to learn. I love it when I’ll say something and he’ll bark back at me as though we’re fully communicating. The scary thing is that we talk to each other a lot. Maybe that’s cuz Paul is always working. Or maybe it’s cuz I’m a crazy fucker. Either or.

Tyler is (ALMOST) fully potty trained. He never pisses on the floor, but once in a while he’ll take a dump next to his "wee wee" pad. I then pick him up, put him back on the pad and say “Go Potty”. He fully understands what he did wrong and will respond by picking the poop up in his mouth. Then I’m like “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” And I gag silently to myself. I still can’t get him to leave his own shit be, but I can say that the frequency in which he eats it has decreased.

He does the funniest things tho. He can finally get up on the couch in the living room, but in doing so, he has to climb it as though it were a rock wall in the Grand Canyon. He uses every muscle in his body and presses his back against my leg. I try to help him, but he is very independent and basically refuses my help. It’s like watching your baby take its first steps. However, Paul and I ordered Doggie Steps and they arrive tonight! Thank God. My abs can’t take the bending over and picking him up to put him on the bed anymore.

Tyler has his own little bed that sits next to my pillow. Our heads tend to rest against each other while we’re sleeping. Sometimes I’ll wake up and see him laying there, snoring away, and my heart grows three times bigger. Depending on his mood, he’ll curl up into a tiny ball or stretch his whole body out so that he’s half in, half out of the bed. When he’s ready to get up in the morning, he will lick my nose to wake me up. It’s so fucking cute that I want to eat him alive. But then he’ll open up his dog mouth and breathe on me and I about puke. For something so little and cute, he’s got the worst morning breath I’ve ever smelled.

When I get home at night, he literally screams with delight. He jumps all over me and needs to lick my face for a good 7 minutes. Then I put him down and he bounces up and down to be held for a couple more. (his nickname is “bunny”, cuz he hops all over the place). Then as though he spent the whole day shopping in the city, Tyler runs around and grabs each toy and presents them to me. The “fetch” game begins almost immediately and rides throughout the evening.

Tyler is a great dog and it’s really interesting to see how differently he responds to both Paul and me. With Paul, it’s like “party all the time”. He never gets scolded and can pretty much bark and run around in whatever fashion he so desires. That drives me a little crazy, only because most times I feel like I’m disciplining him completely on my own. Consistency is key! But when BIG DADDY (me) gets home, he knows the difference. If I tell him “NO!” for some reason, he immediately looks at me and stops what he’s doing. I’m not tough on him, but I don’t tolerate any sort of misbehavin! He needs this kind of structure and he loves it. He’s knows I’m the boss and I can see the respect in his eyes.

I never thought I’d be able to be the disciplinarian. I wanted to be the cuddler, the lover. And I am. But I’m also the father and what I say goes. The fact that he looks up to me in that way makes me feel really good. And POWERFUL. Heh.

I just love this little guy and although I still get minor panic attacks that he’s mine for the duration, they are few and far between. He’s my little man and I look forward to what the future will bring to our little family.

*photo courtesy of Ari

Fighting with My Blog

I've been totally fighting with my blog this week. I know I should post, but I just don't feel like it. Hopefully by tomorrow. But if my site doesn't quit kicking me in the balls, I may have to pull it's hair out.

You understand.

Fag, Fairy, Fruit, Homo: Some Just Call Me “Joe”

When I was in 8th grade, I had my first inkling that I might be gay. I remember sitting in math class at my private Baptist school and staring at a kid that sat in front of me. His shoulders were wide and even for someone his age, his body was absolutely perfect. Luckily (or unluckily) for me, he and I were good friends from a young age and we spent a lot of time together. We would wrestle and go swimming and do all the things that kids our age did. It never crossed my mind that I had a crush on him, until that fateful day in 8th grade when I got my first hard-on induced by lust. WHY was I feeling that way and how could I stop it?? I used to pray every night that I would wake up straight. But instead, God had something else planned for me…

In 9th grade, I transferred to a public high school and I not only had no friends, I was the biggest, most feminine dork in my class. The kids were really standoffish at first and it took weeks for anyone to introduce themselves to me and to offer the hand of friendship. Sadly enough, the minute I started making friends, the jocks (aka fucking assholes) started calling me “Fag”. At first, I didn’t really understand why they were picking on ME. I was the most non-confrontational person ever. But assholes can pick out a gay guy faster than a gay guy can pick out another homosexual. So as the year progressed, not only was I called “fag”, I picked up the names “fairy”, “fruit”, and my all time favorite “It’s Pat”. I wasn’t a girl, but then again, I wasn’t a boy! “Hey everyone, there’s “pat”!

The thing about being harassed every day of your life and having such bad stomach pains at the end of every summer or winter break is that you learn how to build up a tough skin. Very rarely did I cry over the fact that I couldn’t walk or talk in public without being ridiculed. In fact, I did my best to ignore it and to pretend as though none of it was actually happening. It always bothered me the most that the people who WERE brave enough to be friends with me would have to be embarrassed themselves that I was their “fag” friend.

I’ve always been a very outgoing and nice guy. I learned to accept everybody for who they were and it always bothered me greatly when other (not-so popular) kids would get picked on. I knew how it felt and sadly, there was a part of me that was grateful that I was being left alone for an hour or so. But I did my best never to contribute to that kind of cruelty. By the time I graduated from high school, I had a shitload of friends, ended up on the “court” for Winter Carnival and was incredibly successful in our high school theater troupe.

I was dreading college and absolutely petrified to start all over in a town where I would once again be starting from scratch. My freshman and sophomore years of college were very similar to my freshman and sophomore years of high school. The “fag” jokes started almost immediately and within weeks, I was once again terrified to do simple tasks – like walk across the dining hall to get a second bowl of cereal. Each foray into the public eye left me petrified of the new and creative ways that the jerkoffs at my school could come up with to make me feel like a subhuman.

As with high school, by the time I reached my junior year of college, I started to make some genuinely wonderful friends that not only supported and encouraged me to be myself, they were instrumental in my “coming out”. My depression kicked into high gear during my junior year and if it hadn’t been for the support of people like Rita and Kelly, I’m afraid to think of the lengths I would have gone to destroy myself.

By the time I graduated college, my self-esteem was incredibly high and I even felt proud of the man I was becoming. I got my first legitimate boyfriend (Paul) during my last semester and I left school to move to Boston to nurture that relationship. Some could look at that as brave, but I looked at it as the one and only decision that made sense.

After 6 months of living in Boston, I moved to NYC to pursue my acting dream. I finally felt as though I moved to a city that embraced diversity and allowed homosexuals like myself to thrive and grow. At first, this was true and I believed that I would be completely safe and comfortable in my skin. But then it happened…I was on a bus with my friend Rita and this guy picked me out of the group and just began rattling off disgusting slurs at me. “You fucking faggot, mother fucking fruity, gay piece of shit. Fuck you for being a homo, you fucking nasty fag”. My friend Rita sat next to me, both of us silent and scared, as this douchebag railed me from bus stop to bus stop – and worst of all…in front of a packed NYC bus.

It took me a while to get over that one. Since then moments like that have been few and far between, but they still exist nonetheless. Paul and I had a scumbag jump out of his van once and chase us, on his crippled leg no less, all the way into a movie theater screaming that he was going to “kill those two faggots”. And just two weeks ago, I was walking with my friend Brian into a restaurant and this bitch looked me directly in the eye and mouthed the words “You fag”. I stopped dead in my tracks and Brian was like “What?!” I explained what happened to him and he couldn’t fathom how this type of thing seems to keep happening to me.

I’m not a flamboyant homosexual. I am in no way a girly type of guy and while most of my close friends do happen to be women, I also have guy friends and can fit quite easily into the straight community. However, this type of angry harassment seems to be a dark cloud that I just can’t escape from. It’s built up a lot of anger within me and it’s caused me to racial profile, when I’m SO not that type of guy.

Although Paul has rarely dealt with this type of shit, he has seen me go through it and it has made him incredibly volatile to different groups of people. He doesn’t understand how I can roll with it as easily as I do, but he also becomes infuriated when I talk about it and the tears fill my eyes. There is nothing he can do to protect me from this type of hate. He can only sit there, hold my hand, and tell me that I’m above all of it.

Once again, I find myself filled with insecurities about who I am and how I act in public. I ride the subway without making eye contact and I’m ALWAYS aware and alert as to who could possibly give me a problem for being who I am. Trying to get my courage up to go to an audition has been almost impossible and I know for a fact that a lot of that has to do with the inferiority I believe I deserve. Therapy has allowed me to grow and shun those thoughts, but it’s still an uphill battle to be the confident and proud man that I know is living inside of me.

Everyone has their own shit to deal with, but I wish that everyone also had the sensitivity to refrain from saying hurtful and spiteful things. If I responded with a “nigger” or a “spic” or a “kike” to every person that’s ever called me a “fag”, I would have a body riddled with bullets. I try to be above all of this and to understand that these people actually hate themselves and not the gay man that I am.

But that doesn’t mean that the next time I get called a “fag” by someone on the street, I won’t go ballistic and end up in jail for hurting someone so badly that they end up in the hospital, or worse, dead.

Clearly, I’ve had just about enough.

Trust Me, I Know What I’m Talkin Bout

I decided that I better bust out this post today. If I put it off until this afternoon, SOMETHING will come up and I’ll have to do another post of “I’m a Liar and Please Don’t Hate Me”. There’s SO much pressure involved in keeping this site going. I mean, it’s like if I don’t write at least two posts a week than everyone zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…yeah yeah. Suck it up man.

Buckle up and let’s get down to bihness!

There are so many great things out there to enjoy that I find it my absolute duty to fill you in on them and to encourage you to open your mind and give some new music/tv/dishwashing detergent a chance. You’ll see what I mean in a minute.

First and absolutely foremost was the Project Runway finale last night. If you haven’t seen this show all season, I demand that you spend a lazy Saturday or Sunday afternoon watching the marathon. The show is very well done and addictive good fun! (ha…that rhymed)(sublimed) I thought that the final collections by the last three remaining designers were fairly lack luster; especially since Jay McCaroll rocked it out so hardcore at the end of season one. I was fully rooting for Daniel V. and his collection was by far my favorite. I thought his pieces were accessible and very well thought out. Unfortunately, it was darling Chloe who took home the top prize. That was ok, but mostly cuz Santino of doom didn’t win. If I had to hear him say “I’m the best designer” one more time, I would have puked on my couture. Personally, the best part of the show will always be when the winner of the competition is announced and that BASS kicks in. It’s like BOOM…BOOM…BOOM – ADIOS LOSER! This show is my heart and my soul. And if Tim Gunn runs for president, I’m totally voting for him.

Saw 2. Upon first viewing, I was like “ok”. Upon second viewing, I was like “OK”! Upon talking to Ari and her brother about it for 25 minutes, I was like “HELL YEAH!” The movie is full of tricky and creative deaths and with each one, I squeal in delight. When hot mother fucker Franky G picks up “Amanda” and throws her into the syringes…GASP! When the poor idiot of a whore reaches her hands up into a glass box of metal sharp edges…I cringe. Even the furnace, which wasn’t exactly gory, had me climbing the walls with horror. The sequel wasn’t nearly as powerful as the first one was, so I’ll probably only watch it 6 more times. Today.

If you have a dishwasher, then might I recommend using Electrasol 3-in-1 tabs with Jet-Dry Powerball? Paul brought home a giant container of it last week and man! I just love it! The powerball is like a pearl of dishwashing magic. It’s convenient, affordable, and fun. Give it a whirl!

The Chumscrubber. I just love indie movies. I love them I love them I love them. And the weirder they are, the more I love them. This story is about a teenager (played beautifully by Jamie Bell – who is exactly the kind of actor that Brad Renfro should have been if he didn’t start up with that heroine nonsense) who finds his best friend hanging from the rafters. He immediately turns around and goes home, not telling anyone about it. The movie kind of shoots off into a number of different directions at that point and it’s a bit hard to follow it all. However, when you have actors like Allison Janey, Glen Close, Carrie-Anne Moss and Rita Wilson running around, the movie is absolutely captivating. Of course, considering that it’s so indie, there are weird effects and some plot points that are a bit abstract. However, if you’re a cinephile like me, you will appreciate this movie on many levels.

The Oscar scandal of 2006. Yes, I believe that Brokeback Mountain should have won the Oscar for Best Picture, but as I said in my “Brokeback” post, I was just as happy that Ang Lee was the only one to walk away with a statue. His work was brilliant. I saw Crash when it first came out and while I found it to be a truly enjoyable, beautifully done movie, it was in no way as coherent or as fleshed out as Brokeback was. There were too many characters in Crash for it to have been as effective as Ang Lee’s pic turned out to be. True, the concepts of racism and intolerance are still prevalent and important to study in our current societal climate. However, this is the Oscars and it’s not supposed to be an award show focusing on educating people about life lessons. It’s supposed to be awards given for the best MOVIE. The directing, the acting, the production design, the editing…all of these components need to work together in a completely cohesive manner. And in my opinion, Crash did not succeed as well as Brokeback Mountain did. Also, considering that it’s the Hollywood elite that votes on the Academy Awards and considering that there were about a hundred high profile Hollywood mainstays involved with Crash, it became glaringly obvious to me that this was a popularity contest and not a true representation of what the Oscars should be about. This was not an example of Hollywood not being ready to accept gay male love in 2006. It was clearly as base and unfair as it was when we voted for Homecoming King and Queen in high school.

America's Next Top Model has returned! Oh man thank God! Listen…I know that many of you look at this show as a piece of trash, but that’s because you are closed-minded and haven’t even given it a shot. Last night was the two hour premiere and I gotta tell you, it’s going to be one of the best seasons yet! The first hour was focused on narrowing the contestants down from 32 to 13. The second hour was actually the premiere episode. And I gotta tell you…this is one of the ONLY shows on television that can introduce 13 characters and do it with so much detail that you walk away knowing just about everyone’s name. Crash producers should definitely take note. True, if you’re not into fashion…if you’re not into Tyra (how dare you!)…and if you’re not into DRAMA…then this show isn’t for you. But if you do enjoy the world of modeling (like I do) and if you enjoy watching people pulled directly from the ghetto and given the chance of pursuing their dreams, then this is definitely the show for you to watch. Say what you will, but I DID tear up during various parts of the show. These contestants are REAL and the show not only focuses on taking a beautiful picture, it more importantly focuses on each individual’s character transformation. It’s quite a trip and I would encourage you to forget what you know about reality television. Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model are among the best.

Fiona Apple’s Extraordinary Machine. BUY this disc. Or at least download the following two songs to whet your whistle: Extraordinary Machine and The Tymps (The Sick in the Head song). Fiona is back and she is better than ever. True, you must be into her kind of music to truly appreciate the genius that has come out of her head and into her piano. But man…I can’t stop listening to it. Her lyrics, her vocal fluidity, her need to take risks in everything she does...I’m so impressed. I was talking to my lovely Rita the other day and she said that “After Fiona released “When the Pawn…” I thought ‘burn me once shame on me…burn me twice…fuck you.’” I totally agree with that and Pawn was total crapsville. But Fiona went to sleep for awhile and woke up as good, if not better, than she was after her debut album. Give this bitch a try! You’ll be singing the “Tymps” over and over and over. And that is NEVER a bad thing.

Oh man I am totally becoming a chef! My most recent passion is finding new recipes to try out on my loved ones. As you remember from last week, I made this chicken/spinach/bacon thing that was the fucking bizamb! Last night I decided to make tuna melts. Simple you think, yes? NO! I used this recipe that I got from All Recipes and found out that I could add Dijon mustard, balsamic vinaigrette and I even learned how to toast my bread to perfection in the oven. The sandwiches were damn good and I’ve added the recipe to my repertoire. My next conquest…a roast. Do I even ATTEMPT a roast? This is coming from the kid who ate Velveeta macaroni and cheese every day of his life until the age of 25.

Another food discovery I’ve made? Popcorn with crumbled blue cheese on it. Oh stop. Put that barf back in your mouth. If you’re a fan of the stank cheese, DEFINITELY try this. So fucking good. In fact, it’s so good, it’s JOOD.

Ok…that should be it for today. I have so much more to say, such as the kick ass vacation I’ve got planned for this summer…but that will have to wait for another day.

Until then, I DARE you to choose one item from this list and become familiar with it. Pick something that is outside of your usual comfort zone and see if you appreciate it on the same level that I do. If not, then…um…well…FU. Or Fme. I could use a hot fuck these days.

Have a great one all!

Ok, so I lied!

I don't have time to write a post today. I'm such a bastid.

So I leave you two tidbits. One is very special shout out to my friend Chesa! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!!!! I hope you have a beautiful day!

Second is for Ari, who won "Joke of the Day" yesterday by saying the funniest line I've heard in forever.

This is what came out of her mouth: "Explain to me how someone can be allergic to EVERYTHING, yet still manage to be 300#!"

I laughed for HOURS about that one.

Will DEF post tomorrow.

Latas!

Quickie

Post coming tomorrow. I will be addressing the Oscars (Crash what?) as well as Saw 2, Chumbscrubber, and the state of our economy.

Cept not so much the economy.

Until then, catch up on your Ari.

Peace!

If It Weren’t Friday, I Would Slap You!

I’m just really ready for the weekend. I was supposed to go away today, but plans changed and now I’m staying in the city – which I couldn’t be happier about. Not only do I not feel like traveling, I would have to find someone to come down and stay with my dog for a little while since Paul works a hundred thousand hours from now until Sunday. But as it turns out, it will be Tyler and me, the two boys, chillin out, playing games, and watching movies together. I just love that little bastid.

Tonight I’m heading to this Mexican place in the East Village to have dinner with 18 gay men. UM! I’ve never gone anywhere that had so many gay men, unless it was a club or the gay pride parade. My friend, Brian, invited me to join him for quesadillas and a slew of gay men. I’m not SO excited for Mexican food, only cuz if I don’t watch what I eat, I’ll be the guy who’s like “Thanks for inviting me, but I have to run home and have diarrhea from hell.” And that’s REALLY attractive. I mean, who DOESN’T think runny poopie pants is hot? Sheesh.

I’m pretty much looking forward to it, although I’m a bit nervous. Usually I’d like to go to these things with one of my girls. That way if I was feeling insecure or left out, I could stick to them and make inside jokes and laugh the whole time. I know it won’t be fear inducing, but I always try to be prepared for that “I feel out of place” feeling. Luckily, my friend Angie will be joining up with me at some point during the night, so I know that once she gets there, my game will be ON. And by on, I mean if the party sucks, we’ll leave and go have our own party. Fair enough!

The next two weekends, I have birthday extravaganzas! Next week is Ari's birthday. That will definitely be fun and random, since although Ari and I are super good friends, I don’t know many of her own friends very well. The ones I do know, I enjoy immensely. But the other ones…let’s just say, I better come prepared with some witty repartee.

The weekend after that, I have one of my best girl’s (Mariah) birthday celebration. As some of you may know, Mariah is a mind-blowingly good singer and she will be performing on the night of her bash. And…scarily enough…she’s asked me to sing a duet with her! EEEEEEEEEEPS! We’re in the process of figuring out which song to do and although I’m kind of terrified about singing in public again, I love how our voices blend together. Mariah has always given me such strong confidence when it comes to my singing and when she asks me to do something like this with her, I jump at the chance. I might just want to consider smoking a little less before the performance. Otherwise, I’ll totally be singing Old Man River - an octave lower than usual and with a sexy rasp.

Other than getting my gay groooooooooove on tonight, I will be watching two movies that I’ve been dying to see: Saw 2 and The Chumbscrubber. Doesn’t the latter sound like a disgusting, fetish porn flick? It’s actually an independent movie starring Jamie Bell and it sounds fucking great. Independents always know how to rip your face off and force you to eat it. That’s so my style. I’ve heard mixed reviews about Saw 2, but I couldn’t care less. Blood, terror, and gore? Eggselent. Plus there’s one of my favorite "super hot guys" in it, Franky G and that usually keeps my attention for at least a good hour. Not to mention Dina Meyer, who if you remember is one of the best weirdoes to ever grace the Beverly Hills 90210 set. Adore. Her.

So yeah…good weekend coming up.

Last night I made a new recipe for Paul and my dinner. It’s called “Chicken breast stuffed with spinach, blue cheese, and bacon”. Clever title, no? I was in the mood to try something different and lately I’ve become a cooking machine! I love recipes. It’s like a project that you can eat afterwards. Um…yeah!

So here is the recipe just in case you’re interested.

Usually when I make dinner, Paul is like “This is nice. I enjoy it. Very…well…nice.”

But LAST night, he wasn’t even hungry when he got home, but once I served him up a plate of this chicken (rice pilaf and asparagus on the side – and lately I’ve been making a MEAN asparagus), he started chowin down! In a shocked voice he said “Wow, Joe. I mean, wow. (CHOMP CHOMP) It’s so good. I love how the (chomp chomp) chicken and the blue cheese, which you know I don’t like (CHOMP!) goes so well together with the bacon and spina (chomp!)ch. Maybe even (CHOMPCHOMPCHOMPCHOMP!) you can add MORE blue cheese next time.”

I sat there beaming.

I’m a cook now! Or at least I can follow directions very well. And I have to admit, this recipe turned out so well that it’s my new staple dish. Give it a try! And maybe your Paul will be like Chomp City, USA too!

USA ALL THE WAY!

Ok, that was weird.

And that’s it for today! Have a great weekend. Let’s all have some fun, get some rest, and spend it with the people we love. For me, that means Senor Paul and my absolutely perfect, most adorable dog I’ve ever seen in my life. Really, he just gets cuter by the day. Is this the love that people were telling me about when I first got him? It’s turned into a full blown doggy style obsession.

PEACE LOVERS!

Big Black Dudes and Pizza

Let’s see…

What to write, what to write.

Ever have those days when you’re like “I know I’m hot, but I have no idea what to write about?” That’s the kind of day I’m having today. You know…cuz I’m hot. Yeah.

My brain is made of soggy bread this morning. And I HATE soggy bread. For example, I was eating a cheeseburger the other day and when I got to the last bite, it was full blown mush bread. I gagged immediately and scowled at the burger. I mean, how fucking annoying when it’s the last bite and all. But I digress…

Tyler had to go for his second round of shots at the vet today. I have so much going on at work that I was unable to go with him. Paul was so excited when he woke up and got the dog ready. He was like “Hi Joe! Good morning! How ARE you?” I gave him the dirtiest look and said “Could you please?” I could tell he was a little hurt, cuz when I got out of the shower, both Paul and Tyler had already left. Too bad, cuz my mood was much better after showering. But I digress…

I love digressing.

Man, I’m so fucking horny today. I don’t know why considering that I jerked off twice last night. I guess it’s just one of those weeks. I could rub up against a hot pot and probably blow my load all over it. But I digress…

Don’t worry; I’m done digressing for now.

So I have a new internet crush. Isn’t it always fun when you get those? Mine usually last for a whole 3 days, but since it just started this morning, I’m looking forward to three days of obsessive bliss. I found him through my sitemeter and realized that he had me linked on his website. His name is Neal and he’s in law school. And in accordance with my last post, he’s a hot guy with glasses. Man, I just love me some glasses. I was scanning through his journal a little while ago and not only is he pretty adorable, he comes across like a fun, spontaneous and intelligent guy. Consider me crushed. For three days.

Last night I watched some of the new Real World on MTV. That shit is such crap. However, I will watch every episode, just like I have for the past 812 seasons. Its addictive nonsense and I figure…what else do I have to do with my time? Find an acting gig? Never!

Other than being super fucking horny, I’m also starving. I wish I could combine the two. Then I could suck a dick and then eat it. Cuz I do enjoy the occasional hot dog. Only with mustard tho. None of that ketchup weirdness.

Man, I’m an odd guy today. I told you my brain was Mush City, USA. But I digress…

So I’ve been in this interesting predicament over the last couple of weeks. I’ve been dating this guy, named Anthony, that’s super big, super hot, and super black. I met him through a dating service (which I’ve since cancelled – it was all on a whim anyway) and we’ve had dinner and drinks together. He lives in Jersey and works for some sort of boxing/shipping type company thing. I don’t know. It bores me to yawnsville when he talks about it. But anyway…he’s a big boy and I’ve found myself casually touching his arms and neck and cock and balls. Cept not so much the cock and balls.

The thing is, he’s fucking built and I love that, but he’s also a dud and I want to say borderline mentally disabled. No, I’m serious. There are moments when we talk when I feel like he’s…um…how do you say…slow? I’m all about befriending the slow, but I don’t think I can date someone like that. My brain (when it’s not mushy) moves so fast to begin with. Fast and slow don’t go well together. In fact, I’d go so far as to say they’re opposites. Man, I’m smart today.

In any case, I’ve never dated someone where I found their body to be hot, but their personality to be not. I think I’m actually going to have to call things off with this dude, just cuz he’s not at all interesting and not really…um…a braniac? I always thought I WANTED a big, dumb, muscle jock. But I guess not. Maybe I’ll just cum on his chest and THEN break up with him. I haven’t decided yet.

What to eat for lunch…Lord knows I’m going to get pizza when I should fully be eating a salad or a mound of granola. But pizza and I have been friends for a very long time and I would feel terrible if I hurt his feelings by not eating him.

Then it’s settled.

I dump the big, strong, dummy black dude and I get pizza for lunch instead.

Phew. If I hadn’t written in this journal today, I might never have come to these conclusions.

Now…time to dry out my brain and focus on something important.

Jerking off!