Monday, April 26, 2004

To Hex ...

Hex, Hex, what did I do to you? I always thought you were strange and weird but that is your style. I never badmouthed or backstabbed you. I tried to be nice towards you because you did not do anything wrong.

But you crossed the line when you badmouthed me to your so-called Christian friends who associated with that old geezer husband of yours. It is silly, my dear.

you're weird, and always will be. that's why you married him.

R-

Pics & Books

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.

R-

Two Things About DelaJoy!

You know, when I get to your wedding and listen to the usual ramblings by a preacher or priest and when s/he says: "Anyone who objects to the union shall stand up and say it right now", I shall stand up and object.

I'll object to your union mainly because it is not fair. I remembered our discussion a long time ago before you met Eric. We chatted about our frustrations with men. You moaned that you wondered when will you ever get married to a guy considering the fact that lots of people thought you were a cuntlicker. I dismissed that notion and said you'll get when you do not expect it. Less than two months later, you found Eric. Now you have a son. Soon you're gonna be married to that charming dude. That is so unfair!!!! Where is it in for me? WAAAAH!

Now on another subject, about the abortion rights. The whole point of the event is that the right to choose. You have the right not to abort, that is your entirely decision but you do not have the right to impose your beliefs on others. If they want to abort, that is their choice, not yours. The whole thing boils to the personal rights that the government has no *right* to interfere. The so-called religious beliefs would like to do nothing but to force us to adhere to their beliefs. All in all, I am not quite fond of abortions but I have no right to tell others what to do with their bodies. That is what pro-life wanted, to tell them how to live their lives. so essentially, I am on pro-choice's side when it comes to personal rights.

R-

It Is OK To Be Stoic, Really!

I'll get to that theme and talk about it but first things has to vented out eventually.

I had been packing all my stuff back into the boxes once again. It seems to me that I kept on moving year after year. Can't I even stay in one place for five years? But I got a sense that this one will be a long time.

Last Saturday night, I went to my new place and dropped some of my stuff there. Then went to XL for few drinks (Few? Yeah, right, you liar, RT!). Once again, I stumbled into Corey, that irresistible charming fella at XL. I told him that in the last month, I already met four unavailable guys named Coreys. He was quicker to mention that he's not unavailable and that he broke up recently.

My general rule is not to date guys who works at gay bars/clubs because it is their job to make us feel loved and drain money out of us, really. Corey did give me the email address few months ago but I apparently lost it somewhere in my palace (Maybe I washed it along in my jeans?). God know, I get cards, notes and napkins from guys with their phone numbers and addresses here more than I did in DC. Don't ask me why. Sometimes I am not used to the idea that there are guys who liked me or find me attractive.

I know you, guys and gals. "There RT goes again, questioning his self-esteem!!" But I assured you guys, it is not. I am not used to the concept (Remember that overused word at Gallaudet?) that I am liked by some. That takes time to get used to that concept (There I go again!)

There was another guy at XL who conceptually (Again!) liked me and is from Honduras. Since he is from Honduras, it is obvious a latino dude. Why did I say that he liked me? He kept on rubbing my back and talked about my life and his life. He kept on asking a lot about me, so conceptually (Again, RT!!) he has to like me. Is it?

I left XL at 1230 AM in order to check the Fur Ball at the GLBT Center to check out the dance that is geared towards bears, cubs, chubs and its admirers. But it closed at 1 AM, not worth my time, energy or cash as well. I am trying to get rid of my belly -- will explain more about it in a bit. I left for my tiny palace right after that episode at the GLBT Center.

Yesterday, Chris and Shane (both are boyfriends) and I met at Excelsior Bar which is 3 blocks away. We drank and played cards. It was my first time to meet Shane after about 3 months. He seems to be happy to see me. Chris is cute as ever. Anyway, Shane asked me that since I am moving to East Village, he'd like to have a gym workout partner and he wanted me to be the one. I told him as soon as I finish everything up with moving, I am more than interested in being one with him.

Anything to win another Shane who lives in Ithaca. He's my type, oh well. I know I'm freaking him out already 'cuz I did not meet him yet. My ideal guy is normal, laid-back, scrawny, intelligent and homeboy where I can come home and say, "I'm home, honey!" just like the husband in that flick, "Pleasantville" -- except that my wife won't use the apron at all. He'll be himself and throw himself on me even if he's dirty. It'd be nice if it was Shane of Ithaca or someone else!

I am not feeling well today, which is why I babbled too much ... I am watching Maury Povich's Makeover Show. I noticed that lots of funny shows made fun of Maury's wife, Connie Chung. It appears that they made fun of her intelligence. Probably because they noticed that she's dweeb? I wondered. Yeah, I am sucker for Jerry Springer Show (Now in 13th season) -- it is sick, stupid and barbaric show but I always giggle or stare at it. When I am not feeling well, I like to watch Dragon Tales. It is charming, brief, uplifting story. I used to intern at PBS National Headquarters in DC. Lindsey Austin Samahon and Jennifer Sale made my experiences at PBS very, very positive.

Sometimes I'd like to be able to hear the sounds is James Earl Jones' voice. I heard that his voice is powerful. I dont care much for birds' twirping or anything like that but I am curious about Last Friday, I told Lorraine that sometimes I wish I am able to speak with my voice instead of my hands because when I am making out with a guy, I dont want my signs to interfere. I just want to mumble something. Oh, well. C'est la vie.

Cliff, I'm sorry about your cat. Did you get to talk with your former roommates about them having FIP? It really sucked.

And by the way, my posting to you few weeks ago were pretty harsh, I know. I am sorry if you felt it was mean. It's just that I felt nobody were on my side when I was trifled upon. Hope you understand what I meant by that.

Otherwise, Jerry Springer Show is on. I gotta throw some DayQuil in my body and nap a little. It's chilly, rainy and drab day. Oh, well.

Oh, one more thing ... Queen Mary 2 came to New York. Last night, I stood by the bridge overpass the Prospect Expressway, it has an open view of Manhattan Harbor. The ship is massive huge. That word "huge" is not big enough for that ship. It was reported that if you turned the boat into a skyscraper, it'd be 2nd tallest building in New York just behind Empire State Building by few hundred feets!! Then the fireworks ensued to bid the ship good-bye as it rolls back to England. Britons, well done!!

I am stoic because I want to -- I have a picture of Dawn Staley walking off the basketball court while her players sobbed for losing a game in the NCAA Tournament. Dawn is a tough chick. Sometimes I move on with my life just like that. Call it a survival of the fittest, I guess.

Until then,

R-

Saturday, April 24, 2004

Last December 17, 1960

This morning, Chris and I strolled down to the Post Office here in Park Slope then walked to the local diner on 7 Avenue and 7th Street. Chris is hearing and charming dude. We had a nice breakfast but something caught my eye. I saw the ancient newspaper being framed on the walls of the diner.

Last December 17, 1960, two airplanes collided and crashed at *this* very spot. I was the VEE at the whole thing. Only one survived, 11-year old boy, 128 were killed. It appears that there was a miscommunication that caused two planes to collide and burn up the residential area.

Oh, gosh. I live on 14 Street and 7 Avenue. Only 7 blocks away was the site of an airplane crash. See? It can happen anywhere else. Even on your roof.

It is interesting to find out now before I move to Manhattan next week.

R-

"Whua-hey? Who dares to interrupt my slumber?"

Yesterday during the break, I saw a group gathering by a window next to my office. I found out that they witnessed a cat falling down from 4th floor and survived. It sat on the curb by my office window. I saw the cat and immediately knew who it belonged to. Got someone from 4th floor to check up on the cat and bring it home. It is OK. Bizarre but the cat is OK. Which I cannot say the same thing for Tommyrico -- that bastard is cold, tasteless and stupid prick.

I just signed up for Gmail which was offered to me via the blogger.com, it should be interesting. It is Ridor9th@gmail.com -- who will be my first personal to say hi?

Larry, your blogsite looks like a fan of scat or diarrhea, no offense, honey. But I like your images on the right side, where can I get that?

I went home last night at 430 PM and I lay down in my bed and watched the TV 'til 745 PM, I fell asleep until 730 AM. I felt much better, invigorated and all that.

Fuck, Teen Titans are coming up. I heard a lot about them -- I wanna see how it is all about! I'll get back to you, OK? So far, so good -- the introduction is great. :-)

During my slumber, I got 16 messages on my blackberry pager. Am I that popular? I dont know.

Anyway, I was reading an article about Dolly Parton cracking some funny lines at some country music awards about wardrobe malfunction. She said something that she cannot provide such a wardrobe malfunction ... but she wears such a tight clothes, you never know. And she also said, "If it happens, the first three rows will be wiped out." She was on the podium. Good line, Dolly Parton! Love you, babe.

Gotta go back to the Teen Titans thing. It is a childhood thing for me. Gotta check it out.

R-

Friday, April 23, 2004

Praise the Lord it's Friday

That means what? I'm going to home and rest. I tend to be home on Friday nights. I think it is because it's much cheaper to go out on weekdays than on weekends. Of course I have to go out on one of these weekends, so I often selected Saturday night as the means to go out.

But today is the day I am not feeling GREAT. I am tired, I am starting to have a headache. I am starting to feel exhausted.

This Tuesday, I will try to bait a friend or two (Sarah?) to go with me to Big Cup in quest to sign up for Queer Pad, a new not so straight reality show. It's going to be hard to win but who knows? Never hurt in trying to do that. Who knows it'd propel me to be "that" famous like Bill Rancic or Carson Kreesley?

Oh, my favorite scene in To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar occurs when one famous model stopped Noxeema Jackson from moving through at China Bowl, the model said, "You're so beautiful! Can I be like you?" Noxeema laughed then moved ahead and said with a sarcasm, "Good luck!"

Another one was when Chi Chi Rodriguez wailed and complained that she's tired of people snickering at her when she wants to do something good with her life. Vida turned to see Noxeema snickering. LOL.

I enjoyed watching people bicker at each other with snide remarks. It reflected their intelligence, the ability to withstand the insults and return it back with funny lines always won my praises. Which is why I have these friends on the list on my blog.

I look forward to return to my futon bed, where it is waiting for me. Maybe tonight after 10 PM, I'll be able to score a guy or two in my bed. Umm. That is not bad idea.

But hearing Bobby's comments about being tied in a bed getting an ass workout is bit turn-off.

Take care,

R-