the great saturday night swindle

OKAY! I ADMIT IT!!!

i'm a total perv. i've fallen in love with buck angel, the female to male semi-transsexual. for someone who has spent their entire adult life looking for new places to stick their dick, buck is a dream come true. i wonder if he'd marry me?

things progress. i have a new job, starting monday morning. the interview that i mentioned earlier apparently took. they called yesterday and said that i had the job and wouldn't need to go for the second interview with the area supervisor. now, i just have to quit the old one, something i'm not looking forward to. i think i'm going to do it the coward's way, just go into the office on saturday when no one is there, leave my keys and so forth with a note saying that i quit. i've done a really good job for those bastards, always made the bonuses because of performance but i've never been "accepted", being a faygelah in that macho environment. and since i don't look like the stereotype but haven't attempted to stay undercover, they probably didn't know what to think. fuck 'em.
haven't been laid since i don't know when. have a few tentatives lined up for the weekend, so we'll see. i beat off the other day and everything is back to normal, color wise, at least. so i won't have to worry about flipping anyone out with neon red semen. i just wish i could find a few steady hookups and stop having to look for sex. but i rarely hookup with anyone i want a second helping of, or when i do, they're more fucked up than i am.
like rick, who i fucked on a regular basis for the past 5 years. he's "straight", even though he'd rather have a hard cock up his ass than anything else. i was really turned on by him, really nice little body, nice dick and a really, really hot little ass which he loved having fucked. but, being "straight", that was the extent of it. he said he didn't suck dick because he is "straight". doesn't make out because he is "straight" boring as hell because he is "straight". when i told him we weren't getting together again, he was totally disbelieving. even after i explained why, he just didn't get it.
what else? one of my sisters and i are having the same dreams, again. several years ago, one of my sisters and i were having the same dreams and a series of sequential dreams, that unfolded like chapters in a story. we didn't find out until we were discussing our dreams and found out what was going on. now, another sister, who i never told about the first experience, and i are having the same dreams. the big recurrent one involves finding a secret room in the house where we grew up. a few weeks ago, while talking on the phone, she mentioned dreaming of our house and i told her about the dreams. she was amazed that she's dreamt the same scenario. yesterday, she mentioned that she'd dreamt about finding an indoor soccer court in a secret part of the house, much as i'd dreamt of finding a secret sports court in a house down the street from where we lived. i know that people can do this but i wonder what it means, particularly when the scenarios are so specific and strange.

oh, joy. my prostate infection is back. i acquired it after hooking up at a party with a guy i'd been corresponding with for a couple of months. peruvian, great body, insatiable bottom....and gave me the worst infection that i've ever had in my life. ever seen bright red semen? NOT a pretty sight. since i no longer have health insurance, i've been treating it with vitamin c, which works as effectively as antibiotics...as long as i continue to take it.
got an email from rick, a guy i hooked up with about 6 months ago. hot little guy, great body, gorgeous ass-and so high he couldn't get it up. he kept saying he needed to go to the bathroom and hopping out of bed. of course, he had something stashed there that he needed another hit of. terrible sex. so, afterwards, he deluged me with messages wanting a replay until i finally told him that i wasn't interested in a pnp addict. he said he couldn't understand why i'd think he was high (maybe the fact he kept talking to himself?). so, he emails me yesterday and says he's been clean for a couple of months and really wants fucked. he's moved to the suburbs and wants to hookup, again. explained about my sick peepee problem and put him off till next week.
and lonnie, who i've done an number of 3ways with, backed out on me, again. we were supposed to get together today, till he suddenly remembered that he had a previous engagement. we've never gotten together one-on-one but he suggested it. now, he keeps backing out. do these people just need to feel wanted, or what?
bad sex last weekend with some new black guy i met online. he was a really great cocksucker....but that's about it. not as he described himself and kinda creepy. said we should keep in touch and maybe i could be the first white man to ever fuck him. not.
i think i'll become celibate.

so, i've been up since 3am, again. i had a dream that it was the 1960's and woke up because of it, then couldn't get back to sleep. the whole point of this blog is to have something else to do, to keep me occupied during sleepless nights.
i already wrote about finding the altar table, yesterday. i have a booth in a local antique mall where i'll be able to sell it. i've been dealing through antique malls and flea markets most of my adult life. i wish there were some way to make it profitable enough to do it full time. i've had really good luck at it, most of the things i've sold out of this booth have been either out of the trash or out of abandoned buildings. it's amazing what people will buy, i always have to laugh at the purchases. but then, i buy things and think, "well, of course no one else wanted this because it's too weird". i've sold ALOT already and have alot more to go. i lust after empty rooms in this house, something that i know will probably never happen.
but i do see a reduction in the clutter.
i had one weird event connected with the booth, recently. i found a painting of a nude woman across the river in a covington junk shop. it was filthy with tobacco residue and had been written on in magic marker but it was only $15. it was about 3x4 feet, in acrylics. not a bad painting but not good, either. looked like student work. anyway, i bought it, brought it home and cleaned it and repainted the areas where it had been written on. it turned out pretty good. so, i took it to the booth and put $65. on it. to make a long story short, someone stole it. a 3x4 painting. the only way i can think for it to get out of the mall would be for someone to switch the tag with another item or for a dealer to take it out with their items. like i said, this was NOT a great piece of art. and someone went ot all the trouble of stealing it. i guess because it was a nude? people amaze me.

i had some luck, today. while working, on my way from one call to the next, i was driving down the street near our university. tomorrow is garbage day in that neighborhood and i'm an inveterate garbage picker, so i was more than usually aware. on the curb was a pile of furniture to be picked up tomorrow, including an oak altar table. what immediately caught my eye was the carved inscription "do you this in memory of me". i should say that as i type this, my computer is sitting on another oak altar table, gothic style, which i also picked out of the trash. mine came from the church 2 blocks away from home, where my sisters went to church when they were small and where i went to church school a few times. i was driving by one garbage day and my table had been set out for trash. i remembered it from my childhood, along with the two gothic chairs that also sat on the altar. it turned out that some obnoxious fairy a few blocks away had already gotten the chairs. anyway, i managed to get it home and it is now my computer table. the monitor sits on an antique gothic prie-dieu, also picked out of the trash somewhere else, on top of the table.
anyway, i luckily had the company phone so i called barry and told him about it and asked him to drive his pt up there and get it. when i called back an hour later, he said he'd driven by but the table was gone. i felt literally sick, my heart in my throat at missing it. when i got home tonight after work, i noticed that the pt hatch wasn't all of the way shut. it turned out that barry had gone back and found the table, pulled off to one side where he hadn't seen it before. there was another guy picking up items, so he asked him to help load it. so, i got it after all. it's from the 30's or 40's, golden oak. not as nice as mine and needs some repair but at least worth a couple of hundred bucks with minor repairs. i love free stuff! especially free stuff i can resell!!

i have a job interview tomorrow. for a long time, i've wanted to work at our local airport. i like the physical atmosphere and the fact that the people are such a diverse mix so i started applying for various jobs that i saw posted there. and tomorrow i'm interviewing for one of them. of course, now comes the really traumatic part....what shall i wear? i have to feel really relaxed and self assured, which means my clothes have to be PERFECT. i think it will be: grey flannel pants and a raw silk jacket which is an oversized plaid in black and white. i was going to wear a grey flannel suit but i was afraid that would be too dressy. all of which leads to the subject that a good 75% of my clothes have been made into swiss cheese by moths. i DID HAVE some really wonderful clothes. now, i guess tomorrow afternoon, i'm going to be picking though all of them and getting rid of whatever is damaged. that means alot of discards. i don't know if i should throw them away or wreak them upon st. vincent depaul. in any event, i can use the room, anyway. and if i get a new job, maybe i'll need to buy some new clothes?

another sleepless night. woke up at 3am with william blake's "london" stuck in my head. the annoying exercise of trying to remember the sequence of the lines. of course, then i started thinking about the past, which is always a surefire method of ruining my sleep. then i started to think about charles and meeting him in 1967 and the rest of that story, which i'll put on here some other time. then, thinking of the alan renais film "providence" and how, in the main character's mind, you meet his family in his memories but then, when you meet them in actuality, they're nothing like the way he sees them. i wonder if everyone my age is plagued with memory? and i wonder if anyone has discovered a way to escape from it? even the good memories are painful, i wish i could just wipe the entire slate clean. does anyone ever reconcile with the past? i remember when my mother used to complain of insomnia and how i couldn't believe anyone would have trouble sleeping. it has to be a function of age (and living).
on another note, i have to tell them at work tomorrow that i'm quitting. that's bothering me, also, only because i don't know what i'll do after quitting. no new job lined up, no plan. on the one hand it's rather an exhilerating feeling but on the other, rather frightening. i'm going ahead with the faith that everything always works out for the best for me and will again.

Musee de Beaux Arts

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position, how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along,
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, in some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.


In Brueghel's Icarus, for instance, how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster, the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure, the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

W. H. Auden

i wanted to see how a photo would look on the blog. this is a brassai photo from the 1930's entitled "le mome bijou". she was a habitue of the paris cafes, famous for her surliness to the other patrons from whom she'd demand that they buy coffees for her. there were stories that she'd been a famous, beautiful courtesan who'd gone mad and lost her looks and wealth. there were other stories that she was really a man. she disappeared not long after this photo was taken and he only managed to get this and a couple of other shots of her. it's one of my all time favorite photos. i came across it in his book "the secret paris of the thirties" when i was quite young and have loved it ever since. i love the set of her mouth and the look in the eyes which have seen way too much. what a beautiful monster.

a few days ago, i read on a blog by "virginia gal" comments about 'brokeback mountain' and 'memoirs of a geisha'....being familiar with both, i posted a comment. i went back, today, to see if anyone had commented and found she's deleted my post. now THAT'S amusing. i wasn't rude or in any way abusive. guess i'm not part of the clique? can't understand why muslims have pr problems....

i just finished watching jean cocteau's version of "beauty and the beast". it's a strange experience for me. when i was small, 3 or 4 years old, in the time right after my father's death i used to get out of bed early in the morning, go downstairs alone and turn on the tv. at the time, the mid-fifties, early morning tv was when they showed "filler". i got to see newsreels of the german concentration camps, with piles of emaciated dead....something that marked me for life and gave me a knowledge of the camps before i was even kindergarten age. i can even remember talking about it to my mother. anyway, one of the things that i saw in those morning hours, that i always remembered was a scene of a woman running, in slow motion, down a long corridor where there were wall sconces made of human arms and then running down another corridor where filmy drapes blew out from the walls as she passed. all the while, beautiful music played. i would dream that scene over and over afterwards. another thing i saw and dreamt of repeatedly afterward were sculptures that opened their eyes and came to life. such strange dreams for a child who was already questioning his sanity in 1st grade. imagine my shock and consternation, then, when i saw a revival of "beauty and the beast" in the 70's and saw those same scenes in the film. all of that time before, i didn't know if i had actually seen those scenes or dreamt that i saw those scenes. the beast, apparently, made no impression on me as i didn't remember him at all. i guess i was a baby fag already, absorbed in the sets and music to such an extent. and it's still a wonderful film.
what else? made a hookup yesterday with a guy who i was supposed to have a 3way with, today. oh my. he is married, wife was away for the morning so he emailed and asked me to come over so he could suck me off. so far, so good. i arrive. he has a physical disability as a result as a car crash which makes him move and talk about 3/4 speeed. i can handle this and the fact that he's older and in worse shape than he's lead me to believe...hey, a blowjob is a blowjob, right? but then there was his living room...which was decorated with enough images of the virgin mary and her assorted family to fill a religious goods store. and bibles. and religious books. and religious magazines. which makes me suddenly question "is he married or a priest?". l didn't have the balls to ask. but he gives a great headjob. i cancelled today's assignation for "health" reasons, saying i had a touch of food poisoning. i started to type "god help me" but maybe, under the circumstances......

how twisted is my life, you ask (part 2)....on the same sex site, there's a guy that i've been trading emails with for the last 6 months. we've never managed to hookup because of scheduling problems but i've pursued it, mainly because in his ad, he has a great butt shot posted. anyway, we traded emails, again, yesterday and i went into his ad to admire his ass.....when it suddenly struck me.....i've tricked with him in the past. it was a couple of years ago, i never had a repeat performance even tho he wanted one because he just would not shut up, the whole time i was there. this reminds me of the time in the 70's when i got on a bus and there were 3 guys on it that i'd had sex with.....scary!

how twisted is my life, you ask? i'll give you an example. as usual, i was unable to sleep last night so i got up and played on the internet. on one of the sex sites, i got a message from an interstate truck driver in another state, who also couldn't sleep....well, one thing lead to another.
we traded photos and had a furious exchange of messages. among other things, he told me he had all of his teeth pulled ten years ago so that he'd be able to suck dick better. as i said, one thing lead to another....now he's planning on detouring to my locale so he can entertain me in his sleeper, tomorrow afternoon. i feel like a high schooler talking on the phone, setting up a first date. more later......

i've been playing the beatles' "rubber soul" album alot, lately. people think of "sgt. pepper" as the hippie beatles album but really it was "rubber soul" that was the hippie soundtrack. in the summer of 1965, the songs from that album were so pervasive, you heard them everywhere that you went and they sounded so new and so revolutionary. i've read that marijuana was the creative backbone of those songs....maybe the current generation of popstars should smoke more?
anyway, in my ongoing effort to regress, that's one of the albums i'm playing, trying to recapture the attitude and life view i had then. things seemed so easy. i didn't worry about the future and i was more self assured, even in adolescent angst. why is it, the older we get, the more frightened of life we become? one would think it would be the other way around. it took so little then to be happy and the feelings were so much more intense. how does one recapture that?

I WANT TO DANCE BENEATH THE DIAMOND SKY WITH ONE HAND WAVING FREE, GODDAMNIT!!!