|by Thom Fowler
There is really no way to prepare you for what lies one click away. It is so horrible, so twisted, so bizarre, that even the stoutheardiest men and women have run in terror. Be warned. Once you peel back the veil, there will be no returning to your happily unknowing complacency. A deal with the devil is forever. Are you ready to play cards?
JEL-LY FUCK-ING DO-NUT
There's a big gold buddha staring down at me in front of the ocean and red muscled guy curled up with his arms wrapped around his face.
My coffee is cold, but the teddy bear and the hearts on the mug are hypnotizing.
Everybody needs a little tender loving bear.
And this cup belongs to the guy who is now starring in a Playboy original series as a leather clad Dom. A real mean sonofabitch who gets off on giving it to his female co-star with a little bit of aggression. While he does show his genitals, his contract stipulates that nobody is allowed to touch the goods. So he doesn't put make up on it to touch it up, as so often happens in soft-core.
It should happen more in hard core. I'm gittin tired of these pimply asses.
I've been writing reviews of gay porn films for 20 dollars a pop. Every time I pop, I get 20 dollars.
I'm the cheapest whore in Los Angeles.
Tonight is spoken word night, I should write something to read tonight.
I should take a picture of this view. It's just all ocean. All day and all night, the sound of the waves rolling in, rolling out and now that the moon is full, the water is lit up and bathes the hillside in a silver glow.
These are the sounds of a young man's brain cells on LSD. Let's listen again.
Can you hear that? That's the sound of a young man's brain cells on LSD.
I cleaned my room. I put peppermint essential oil in the wash water and washed my floors and walls and windows and all the mouldings. My room is so perky now. It's Ultra-Fresh.
I finally got a new filter for my air filter so now I am enjoying dust free air again.
I also had diarrhea. I was fascinated by the creme filled half-stale donut in the Plexiglas case at the Ralphs, so I ate it. It made me very sick and my poo was runny for two days. I had a fever and felt achy the first day. It was awful. But I got a little massage and that helped my aching muscles. When you have a flu, get someone to give you a little massage.
I'm trying to catch up to myself. I don't know why. Its not like I have anything coming up that I need to make room for. But you know, I give myself all these assignments and then go out of my way to get them halfway done and then I don't finish them.
I don't care if I'm not getting paid, I like what I'm doing. But I need to get a fax machine and a printer and start pitching editors. I HATE doing that but I've been told all I need is three good gigs to make a decent living.
Maybe I want to make an indecent living?
It's so competitive though. I mean, I don't mind bumping someone off the ladder, its only when I look back and see them starving when I feel a little remorse.
And then I think, "Well, they'd do the same to me."
and then I feel all "Kill or be killed."
I'm the reluctant Lion - unwilling to hunt down and kill even the staunchest of prey.
Sometimes I think my failures are more interesting than my successes.
Its burning man time again and once again, I'm not going. I hope its great though and lots of people lose their mind.
Nina Hagen is my hero.
I'm pudging out.
I saw a really great movie - All The Queen's Men. It'll be in a theatre near you, October 25th.
You are going where, exactly?
From Los Angeles Craigslist Rideshare
"I'm heading up to Burning Man on August 30 and returning on the 1st. No kooks or freaks, please"
p.s. Everything about this is a lie. The truth has been momentarily disconnected. Swim tight in this interesting illusion. We shall restore service shortly. Thank you for shopping at Thom-mart. Watching Thom-o-vision. Playing at the Thom-a-rama.
Okay, I meant to write about the Ocean - and I did - and also toothbrushes. You see, when I was a wee lad, we had this book called "Diet For A Small Planet" and somewhere along the way I was conditioned to make the most economical choices possible. At some point, I decided that a hard bristle toothbrush would last longer, and thus I would consume perhaps a dozen fewer toothbrushes were I to live to my expected average, saving roughly 12 dollars, which could be reallocated towards more important things, like a retirement fund.
In addition, there would be less landfill and somehow the world would be a better place because of it. I recently determined that a soft-bristle brush is not only more comfortable, but my teeth get just as cleaned and there is more gum left after every brush. And they last as long if you don't grind the bristles onto the tooth like I do. And I was going to connect all that to the ludicrousness of punishing myself for the sake of "saving the world." I don't think environmental responsibility should be about denying yourself pleasure, or giving up good dental hygiene, which is a must.
I was also going to write about this small town 25 miles south of the Mississippi border, in Louisiana, where my well-intentioned sister was betrothed and she carted away her kids. I am Caucasian, but my niece and nephews are part Afromican, part Filipinocan and part cracker-can. So now they live in this town where my sister admits that "hygiene is not a priority. The other kids will go three days without brushing their teeth." AND those other kids are now calling MY niece and MY nephew, "nigger" and "stupid Mexican."
I told my niece, who is just starting 9th grade to do well in school so she can go away to good college. "Never underestimate the power of being able to go away to College," I tell her. But in a school of 400 kids K-12, I wonder if the teachers hold any less an enlightened point of view. Simply stated, they are in hell. I'd be afraid, as a gay man, to go visit. I envision a James Byrd/Mathew Shephard scenario if I ever decide to go out there. "If you don't hear from me in 24 hours, call the police. No, wait, call the media. No, not THEIR police, YOUR police."
And my poor nephew - great kid. He's starting Junior High, is excited about living in the country, hunting alligator, growing food, being in a new place, and best of all, having something like a "dad." And he has never really understood what racism is until now. He's never been made to feel "different" because of his skin. He's never really wondered, "Why is my mom white?" And he sees all those other kids, who he calls "mean", as something like aliens. And I am SO glad, because they are aliens. Aliens in the world my nephew will grow up to be a part of, while people who still have intolerant attitudes will be pushed farther towards the fringes.
I don't know what I'll do to help them survive since I can't really be there. If I had the money, I'd bring them to California and put them in private schools. Fortunately, they've got the right foundation and now, for whatever reason, they've got a character defining challenge ahead of them.
I live in the most privileged of all possible scenarios and it freaks me out that there are still places where its dangerous to just be what you are.
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originally posted: 08/22/02 12:08:36