The recuperation

It's official. My wisdom teeth have been removed.

It was a long time coming. Two months of pure hell. I never in my life experience such agony. It's pretty much common knowledge that I'm a wimp when it comes to pain, but this had been completely unbearable.

The procedure took place yesterday morning down at the UCLA School Of Dentistry. I wasn't nervous as some people thought I would had been. I think my mindset going into it was very much aggro: "get these mother fuckers out of my mouth". Up until I got my hands on some pain medication a couple of weeks ago, I was on the verge of pulling them out myself with a pair of pliers. I did my best to keep a positive outlook despite dealing with a few set backs. So by the time the date arrived, I was welcoming the operation with open arms.

Now I am happy as a slutty bottom in a room full of tops, ready to tackle what the world throws at me with vigor and fearlessness. But with much less need for poppers.

From the vault: Meet The Perry's

During the months that my blog space remained dormant, I actually wrote a bit here and there. I just never got around to actually publishing them. How rebellious of me, eh?

Anyhow, I have decided to actually "print" a few of the old ones just for the hell of it! So without any further adieu, I present to you "Meet the Perry's"!

I've read numerous rants and raves slamming Tyler Perry's work. It's quite entertaining to me because the majority of positive reviews I read accuse the negative reviews of being racist regardless of who wrote it. Completely immature. I love how people can throw the race card in to add the depth of drama. And to back up their claim that they are in the right (even if they are full of horse shit).

We all have our opinions on what makes a good movie. If you enjoy it, and you think it's the best thing since analingous, then good for you. It's a good movie. But don't say it's racist, sexist, or whatever you can muster up in opposition to a negative review when that negative review has enough concrete evidence that the film is total rubbish.

Well Tyler Perry has made a name for himself in the African-American community and I applaud him for his success. Altho I'm surprised I haven't seen one of his films yet. I guess I am going to have to NetFlix them. Regardless, I hear they are all the same. Eh, who cares. The horror films I watch all follow the same formula, and that doesn't bother me one bit. I'm entertained, and that is all that matters.

I do have to admit the fact that he continues to put his name in front of all of his titles is bit jarring in my opinion. I guess that can be considered a branding marketing technique. Insuring that the marketed audience is in awareness that this is indeed a Tyler Perry feature. Since those are the people who are flocking to this films opening weekend. Thank you Lions Gate.

Now there was one review I read today that included this statement I found tantalizing: "His relentless need to brand everything with his name indicates what his real motivation is." This review included a link to one of hilarious spots (not to mention highly entertaining) from E's Hollywood trashing show The Soup. This one ranks right up there next to their mocking of the Beyonce American Express commercial. Check this one out for yourself:



Moments from shows like this makes me wish I had constant access to the brain numbing vision of the television set. Ah, maybe in due time. But until then, thank heaven for YouTube.

Adoration #04

I absolutely fucking love the Craigslist m4m Missed Connections for the Los Angeles area. Here are some examples why I plan to grow old in this city...

Two hot guys I met outside the Fairfax swap meet - m4m

We went back to my place and I sucked you both off. It was totally hot maybe partly because it was so spontaneous but I hopping you see this and want to do it again maybe even more.

Montebello Mall. Macy's Restroom. Were you there? - m4m

Was in the restroom today doing my thing in the 3rd stall around 11:30 maybe. I was watching the reflections as usual and trying to let the person in the next stall know what I was doing. You definitely noticed. I saw you peeking and I saw you stroking. I was hoping you'd make a move but you left before anything happened. But right before you left you stood up and I saw the reflection of your nice hard pole.

YOU had black shoes with no laces, black pants, and I thought I saw a goatee and your hair was a bit spiked. Anyways, it was very hot and I got off good :) hope to do more next time.

The hot italian dude I sucked off at Arclight this weekend - m4m

I am the hot jock that sucked you off in the end stall after stroking at the urinals. I want to do this again, never had a bigger load !! It's a long shot but if you catch this hit me up..

Peet's Restroom on Lindbrook, Saturday Night. - m4m

We met at Urban Outfitters and you followed me to Peet's where you fucked me in the bathroom. I've never taken a guy's load inside my ass before and I can't stop thinking about it.

I want you again, cool?

I know you have a girl and am cool with just being a side thing.

VPL Silver Shorts **Hot** - m4m

You were waiting in line with your silver shorts, cock outline visible and I could swear you were teasing me everytime I looked at you. Hit me back if your interested.

Need my cock sucked at work on the DL

I work at the ArcLight in Hollywood. I've been trying to find some action b4 work, but with no success. I need my 7.5"c cock drained. There are discreet places to play where I work. Serious replies only, this is for RIGHT NOW.

Text (not call, text) me at three dos three three ate for too 9 seven oh

Everytime I read these types of posts, my panties become a tad bit moist. Oh LA, please don't ever stop making me feel all warm & fuzzy inside.

Thirty-two is the new thirty-two

I've decided to kick this funk that I'm in. Main reason: it's not healthy. But there are a bevy of other reasons as to why I want/have/need to get rid of the negative vibes I've been harbouring lately. I've never been one to welcome a state of depression for long periods of time. The last time I felt this way was about 6 years ago during my relationship with Timofy - even tho my feelings of despair felt like an eternity, they were shortly lived. And before that, it was sometime right before I came to terms with my sexuality - again, shortly lived. Each time I emerged from the ashes (so to speak) enormously stronger than I was before.

First way I plan to get myself together is to finally get the house in working order. Nothing paints a more depressing picture than your shit (read: clutter) scattered all over your living quarters. Plain and simple, it's not cute. You can't live in filth. And what would your tricks say when they come in?! The horror.

Secondly, I need to get these damn wisdom teeth extracted. That statement in itself is self explanatory. Only a week and half to go, then they are history!

Thirdly, find stable employment. I would like nothing more than having the typical reason to get up in the morning... to make that cheddar. (I guess I shouldn't use the term "cheddar" as my street cred was revoked the minute I left Tucson's Barrio Central back in 1999.) I do know that having the responsibility of work does make me one happy homo. I don't know why it puts a smile on my face, but it does. And I cannot wait to have that feeling of purpose jumping around in my stomach.

Fourth but not last, explore my dreams by working on plans for the future. Whether it be disciplining myself to do some writing, or taking a class at Los Angeles Community College, I want to improve my surroundings through my own creativity. I want to tackle writing a full screenplay (I have one in mind), creating art via different medias, bringing Toxic Waist out in the nightlife (as well as on stage), checking out the scene in Los Angeles on a regular basis (one of the original reasons I was drawn to LA many moons ago)... so much to accomplish, but I am certain I will and can do it.

So now I am going to look ahead to this journey. I know deep inside that I had to hit the bottom of my emotions in order to realize what I needed and want to do. I can colour myself exciting now, because the world is full of possibilities.

Cohabitate

The hardest part about living with someone is the space issue. Well, in my opinion that ranks number one. This would be assuming that the two parties living together are compatible with one another. "Somewhat" compatible is better than "not" compatible at all, but being "somewhat" isn't all that desirable to be honest. I think the majority of people want to live someone that they are "completely" compatible with (assuming those individuals want to live with someone). I have the "completely" compatible with Woods. Well, for the "lion's share" anyhow.

Lately, I've been feeling homeshocked. Homeshocked is a term I coined regarding how I feel living here at A2 (if it's even called that). The definition in a nut shell is: the feeling of having freedom but also having the feeling that you are trapped (i.e mentally or physically, hell even emotionally). I feel like I am experiencing all three of those examples.

So why do I feel this way? And where does that put me?

Yes, Woods bought a house: unofficially dubbed A2. In truth, it is HIS home. I only squat here. I'm a user, abuser, however you want to phrase my living status. I could be thrown out at a moment's notice with no recourse for myself.

I have no transportation. What was I thinking when I sold Betina to CarMax during the summer?! I can walk or take the bus, but the bus cost money. Which leads me to...

Oh yea, I have no income. Looking for work lately has been tough. I've been applying for jobs over the past six months (maybe not as ferociously as I should be, but I have made a conscious effort to troll the classifieds).

Woods cannot have a night's sleep without me next to him. Now I feel that I am in this position to go to sleep when he does, to wake up when he does, to follow. I don't like to follow his lead all the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about following his lead, but I don't like to follow his lead (or anyone else's for that matter) to the point where it is considered a normal act. I feel responsible for his sleeping schedule. Since when has this become my responsibility?

No social life for me. I don't have any mates out here. I'm the boy in the bubble. I just can't co-mingle with just one person throughout my day. I guess no social life is a false statement. I have friends that are Woods' buddies as well. I just don't have "my own" friends. It's no one's fault but "my own".

No tricking as well. I've transformed into a 100% gym shower queen now. I honestly look forward to the post work out activities of showing off. This is where I have been getting my dose of my much needed narcissism. I've also added escaping to the internet for another source of needless approval. A chat room where I can show myself with or without apparel has become a common place.

Sad, really.

As I sit typing this, I don't want to go to bed. I want to liberate myself somehow, somewhere, yell, scream, figure out what the hell I am doing. I'm a flurry of emotions: annoyed, angry, bored, suffocated, bewildered, erratic, cold, confused, lifeless.

Woods just came over to me from the other bedroom where he was thought to be asleep since he was falling over from his upright position on the futon due to fatigue much earlier in the evening. As he speaks, I sense a guilt trip coming on. He rubs my shoulders for a moment, then speaks. I stand corrected. The question brews about my whereabouts from the queen size bed. I close my eyes and sigh.

I don't blame him for being flustered with me. As I don't even know what is going on. But on the same token, I don't know if he realizes that I am at a crossroads with myself. And on how I feel. I know I have had many talks with him over the past year regarding individualism, being in a partnership, depression, and my self-blockage but at times I feel that it's all just disregarded. Am I not having enough conversations with him? But how many conversations can you have about the same subject?

At least I can honestly say that I know who I am = a irresponsible slut who lives beyond his means.

For the time being, I guess I will attempt to place all of these puzzle pieces together in hopes of a clearer picture. Maybe I will come to a realization once my birthday passes tomorrow. As another year goes by, I need to ask myself "have I matured since my last birthday?" I know I haven't, but maybe this is what I need to work harder this upcoming year on figuring out this life of mine. All I can do is hope for the best.

*crossing fingers*