v e n u e c r a s h

You now have 2 minutes to reach minimum safe distance.

The man at the far end of the bar smiled at me. He looked alone,and i was also, so i knew how he felt, so i smiled and nodded.

He started making his way towards me, and all i intended was a nod, so i exited the other end of the bar, past the Groping Guys, up the stairs to the "boutique".

I really was interested in looking for a cock ring since i'd left mine under a guy's bed a few weeks earlier and it just wasn't worth moving the whole bed with the guy in it still moaning...it wasn't like it was damien hirst diamond encrusted, although that is an interesting thought.

So I continued my escape...through the pool room, down the stair, past the guys who stand silently in thier own worlds, looking up at a plasma fuck scene, past the no-man's land mid bar, out onto the patio, back inside.. he was still following, but i was nearing the front door: past the front bar, the boot black, turning right, up the ramp past the rack of queer rags, pushing through the door, the steam outside meeting the inside.

I half-ran, half-walked...ok, it was skipping...to my truck, because the street isn't exactly safe, atho Wallis "that woman!" Simpson once lived on it. I took off. In the rearview, the Eagle's front door opened.

Decline and Fall.

After going through one of the more invasive procedures, i recieved this questionaire in the mail asking me to rate, from 'very poor" to very good" things like the "comfort of the wating area", "skill of the staff who provided your treatment" (OMG, they allow a "very poor" box for skills?), and " likelihood of recommending our facilities to others" ( hey bob, if you ever need your colon checked out, have i got a place for you! and i think they're skillfull, too!)

And, no kidding, if i return the survey, i am automatically entered in a sweepstakes for a new ford mustang. i'm not, er, shitting you. 

These    are    the    good times.

I was greeted by Dory, a friendly lady with a warm smile that rather melted me. She would be with me all the way through recovery. She looked much like my grade school friend's mother: in a pencil-skirted tweed suit, trying to herd my demonseed friend to wed night St. Andrews.

Dory gave me a two bias-cut green plaid numbers. She told me to put the first one on with the opening in the back, and the second on as i would a bathrobe. The entire ensemble was unflattering, especially the sleeve length. The color would never be available at Farrow & Ball.

 Dory sensed I was uncomfortable so she put one on too so i wasn't the only jerk walking around like this. i felt no arousal.

They took me into into the operating room on a stretcher. I think it impressed Dory that when they flurry around me attatching leads, IV ports, administering injections, i already know to hold up my middle finger for the blood oxygen clip to be attached. as they wheeled me in , aleady beeping, they had shoo away some 6 yo kid bleeding some guy to death. they quickly cleaned it up and spanked his behind. i helped.

afterwards, Dory comforted my confused surgeon. had he left a pair of scissors inside?

I put it in the biohazard bin. for so, so many reasons.

100% of Individual Deductible met for 2007.

I don't know what you want but I can't give it anymore.

 

Hospital tommorow. Numbers off. Again. I do feel blurry; I can't pin me down.

In my little town, where the streets have no name.

Feel sincere.

There are two blogs I read almost daily: we like sheep , and jockohomo, to whom i can't seem to link. I really don't know anything about either these guys. They are who they choose to present in blog form. I don't have any idea who the guys are behind sheep and jocko.

Some blogs are just bogus. These two I feel are sincere. They are both very well-written, in totally different styles:

Sheep's thoughts flow calmly and smoothly and make me wish desperately I could write as well. His posts are linked stories. He allows you to follow his days, which are frequently, deeply deadpan hilarious. He's not a diarist; he's a commentator. His posts seem one step away from essays, a difficult form. And his accompanying pics are wonderful. I totally wish to God i'd have ended up with a group of friends like his. He shares his vacation pics with you and the best manpic he posts is one of a bunch of oiled abs in a row, but a longshot of a guy casting from the surf. (For what? I only fish the Gulf.)

Jocko's writings are a guide to the thoughts slamming around inside his skull. Sometimes they shatter and reasssemble into new wordbits. I have to read them three times just to make sure I barely grasp the pop culture touchpoints. Topics are all over the place and have lead me to other valuable sites many,many times (great hoodies, handicapped barbies..yes they did make them)...but he has some degree in Art, so the whole thing is a High/Low sort of thing. In a blender. And the most gorgeous graphic design I've seen.

No more potter-dis.

Casting Call 1

Shirley Mclaine as Barbara Bush.

James Cromwell as George H. W. Bush.

Turtle as Michael Brown.

Being user-friendly can be a great turn-on: Part 3.

love your pics and profile and thank you for veiwing mine feel free to email me if you like

sounds greate xxxxx. Anytime. John

You sound like alot of fun!! xxxxx here,  goodlooking oral bottom. I come to balitmore often. I am 6'1 165 brown/hazel swimmers build (see: carpenter, karen) and very oral. (this phrase always makes me think: teething ring. not an entirely bad thing i suppose)I live in nova and my cell is xxx xxx xxxx. Give  a call.

Nice pic and profile. Similar interests. Safe and sane, regular-type no drama guy
here. Would be interested in talking further/meeting

38/m, 5'10", 175, vgl hung Italian (TRUTH IN ADVERTISING!)

you in Cleveland (i am a camera)