Tuesday, August 31, 2004


Joe wrote of his love and his pride
At being seen on the town by Bob's side
He wrote of chance and of fate
And of finding love late
Bob's one word response: 'Unsubscribe'

Monday, August 30, 2004

Manhunt Weather Report

Manhattan Forecast:

Standards will be dropping sharply after 2 AM,
when an ugly front will be sweeping in from the clubs.

Torrential drama may occur throughout the
mid-relationship zones.

Expect widely scattered pockets of sketchiness,
especially in Chelsea and Hells Kitchen.

Prepare for high gusts of attitude, particularly
above 59th street.

Ages reported to be in the high 20's will be sharply
higher in person.

Travelers Advisory:
Distance to his place in the outer boroughs will be
approximately three times as far as he said.

Five Day Forecast:
Continued Regret

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

The Decorator

On gossamer wings, the faeries arose
And painted the sky in fuschias and mauves
They used teal, tangerine, salmon, dusty rose
Sprinkling colors so gay, they have names no one knows

The faeries rejoiced at the colors they chose
But down on the ground, one queen wrinkled his nose
Phone in his hand, Bobby barked out, quite furious
"This is Mr. Trendy, and I ordered LUXURIOUS!"

Monday, August 23, 2004

God Is A Bottom

Walk before me and be perfect.
(Gen. 17:1)

You have not chosen ME, I have chosen YOU.
(John 15-15)

You shall have NO gods before ME!
(Ex. 20:1)

All the earth shall be devoured with the fire of my jealousy.
(Zeph. 3:8)

If you forsake me, and serve strange gods, then I will turn and do you hurt.
(Josh. 24:20)

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Hey Dud!

The following is a verbatim compilation of messages
I've received on Manhunt.net, a gay sex hook-up site.

Hey dud!

U R Hott! Put that in the sexy place!

Tonight I'm feeling VERY ranchy, how about u?

I hope you are into barebaking, cuz I'd love for you to bread me.

You give me extra pleasure, especially in the lower half.

Are you into hot men with mussels and strongly looking?

I'm into sweety passionnut sex with couples and small gropes.

I want a hot verbal top who tells me what I am and where it goes, mostly.

Can you host? I can't cuz I'm small, and somewhat spaced.

No waters. No leathers. And boots are too nosy.

Let me no.


Thursday, August 12, 2004

Ten Quick Facts

1. I was born and raised in rural North Carolina. Yes, I'm as country as they come, although you can rarely hear my accent anymore. (OK, maybe after a dozen beers or so,
the 'y'alls' come out).

2. I have never had a cup of coffee, a cup of tea,a glass of wine, a cigarette, or a cigar. There is no philosophy or moral code behind my abstention. Just don't care for their aromas.

3. I'd rather plunge hot burning forks into my eyes than listen to classical music.

4. I have never been arrested.

5. While living in Florida, I was involved in 3 car accidents resulting in my vehicle being totaled. In all 3 cases, the other driver was charged. In all 3 cases, the other driver was French-Canadian. Draw your own conclusions.

6. In 1995, I was mugged at gunpoint in the Castro. In 1999, on the same block, again I was mugged at gunpoint in the Castro.

7. On August 14, 2002, a limo pulled up next to me on W.40th Street in Manhattan. The window rolled down and Michael Jackson extended his arm to point at me. I'm still troubled by the meaning of this.

8. My baby niece has 4 uncles. We are all gay. So right now we're thinking 'art school'. Or the WNBA.

9. I've had the same haircut for about 43 years.

10. My cooking skills can be summed up in 3 words: 'Vent With Fork'.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Forced Retirement

His codpiece bulging
His hair styled high
Roy *snapped* his whip
As the tigers raced by

One Bengal took issue
And reared in her place
And sank her huge fangs
Thru the Lancome on Roy's face

His costume in tatters
Bloodied Roy softly said
'Forget 911 ,call Edith Head!'

Wednesday, August 04, 2004


My sister and I were riding in the far back seat of the station wagon, when 'Michelle' by The Beatles came on the radio. We immediately launched into our version, singing the French stanza especially loud.

My bell
Funky monkey
Bo-banana shell
Banana shell

Unable to continue past our made-up lyrics, we collapsed into giggles. My mother whirled around from behind the steering wheel.

'I have TOLD you kids that I will TEACH you the correct words! Now STOP THAT!'

My sister and I looked at each other.


'Do you think that's funny? Do you WANT people to think that you are stupid? When we get home you are both going to sit down with me and write out the correct words in French!'

It was ironic that my mother was such a stickler for something like that. She got the words to songs wrong almost ALL the time. And when she got the words wrong, she got them WRONG, as in, not EVEN close.

Years after the 'Michelle' incident, I was driving us to the grocery store . I only had a restricted license at that time, and Mom had to ride in the front seat next to me. I was concentrating on keeping her huge '62 Impala convertible between the white lines. As usual, Mom was riding with both hands in front of her on the dashboard, always bracing for the gory accident I was surely about to cause. The radio was blaring 'You Sexy Thing' by Hot Chocolate..

Mom got a puzzled look on her face. 'Why WON'T she wear a bra?'


'In this song, he says 'I believe in miracles, wear a bra, you sexy thing.'

'Mom, he's saying 'I believe in miracles, where you FROM, you sexy thing.'

'Oh. Well, it should be 'Where ARE you from,' said my mother, the grammarian.

I looked over at the world's biggest Elvis fan.

'You ain't nothin' but a hound dog?'

She looked pained. 'Point taken.'

A few weeks later, I was watching the Village People perform on American Bandstand. Mom walked in and sat down just as they were finishing.

'Oh, did they do the Coast Guard song?'

'You mean, 'In The Navy'?'

'No, they have a song about the Coast Guard too.'

'No, they don't'. (The gay son KNEW the Village People repertoire.)

'Yes, they DO. I hear it all the time on the radio.'

'Sing it for me.'

Mom thought for a second. ' Join the Coast Guard....of love. Join the Coast Guard....', she trailed off, uncertainly.

'C'mon, Mom. The Coast Guard....of LOVE?'

'Well, it's SOMETHING like that,' she said. She got up and went into the garage.

A few minutes later I heard her singing while she folded laundry.

They won't shoot
They won't shoot
They won't shoot
At a new recruit

It was months before I figured out that her 'Coast Guard' song was actually 'Love Rollercoaster' by the Ohio Players. It was totally a milk-out-of-my-nose moment. To this day, I hear that song with my mom's words.

Join the Coast Guard of love
Oh yeah!
It's join the Coast Guard time
Lovin' you is really wild!