These pics on your right are not me, of course. The first picture is Texas' Stacy Stephens whom I termed as a corn-fed chick. She is tough woman who could muscle her way around Tennessee. In her four years at Texas, she had Texas beat Tennessee 3 three times out of 4. Prior to her arrival, Texas had lost to Tennessee more than 10 straight times. Look at how she used her ass to push others away from grabbing her ball. That is, to me, smart and great play -- using anything that might come to you as an advantage.
The second picture is a team that celebrated the National Championship in Men's Lacrosse (Virginia won!) and this guy, Kass, jumped higher with such a passion that I had to pose it up.
Now I had been packing up a lot of shitty stuff in my boxes. Sigh. I came across few books that you guys might want to check out.
Chelsea Boys by Glen Hanson and Allan Nuwirth. It is a book composed of comic book strips based on three fags and a dog living in Chelsea. Very funny and witty book. Ask Dylan.
An Underground Life: Memories of Gay Jew in Nazi Berlin by Gad Beck. It is such a moving book. Gad Beck survives throughout the terrors in Europe but not without a price. Lots of his friends died. Including Poldi Chones, such a hottie who died as well.
Pedro and Me by Judd Winick. This graphic novel is fuckin' awesome. I remember Brad Dale being bitchy and all that. I read this book, he saw me reading it. Then we sneaked into the computer lab after it closed on a weekend night. I was on the Internet, probably on gay.com -- Brad was boring, he asked if he could read it. He was reading about 25 feet away from me on my left. Later, he vanished from my eyesight. I figured that he cannot leave the lab without me noticing because the alarm would be set off. He had to hide somewhere. I found him hiding in a corner, crying over a book. I was surprised. He was crying over a book. Good to know that he's emotional when it comes to stuff like that. If he cried over a book, it means it's good book.
A corny book is titled, Tell Me How The Wind Sounds, by Leslie D. Guccione. I read it once and thought it was ... whatever.