I am freaked out over Afghanistan.

People think I’m all Rah-Rah but no, that was a fiasco. I’m a patriot, not a moron. Just in case you were wondering, I’m just trying to behave.

It never should’ve happened.

I cannot think about the Women or my Brothers and Sisters, and I CERTAINLY cannot think about the Soldiers.

I don’t know, I don’t know about any of it.

It isn’t like we didn’t have the time or resources.

Again– That never should have happened. (BUSH)

We can’t focus on anything now but the future.

If the people of Afghanistan ever forgive America know that it will be undeserved.

Please don’t start with me.


Amazing Grace Faith Fellowship

Google that shit, if you ever wonder.

I was part of the 1st congregation.

And I helped recruit people who I assume still go there.

I really wanted to behave.

Please understand, I truly believed the bullshit about being cured.

But no. Assembly ain’t scared this Bitch.

You better come correct.

With your fake-ass tongues, you are not ready for this.

I do not care.

I don’t even know the things I used to scripture-wise because that space is being used for more useful information, but whatever.

Shit, other churches would try to recruit me out from under my home church and I still didn’t leave until the preacher’s kid and I got into it.

I really really really wanted to be “good”.

I may be wrong, but I think I’m good now. (ish) Everyone has to feel like a hero, or they couldn’t bear this nonsense, but yeah, I think so.

Especially now that I’ve learned some psychology


I’m behaving.

I am not anti-religion, I am anti-people who pretend to be religious because it gives them an excuse to be a dick.

Sell It Down The River, Martha.


I keep thinking I’m 30 even though I am aware that I’m not.

People in their late 20’s are alright.

I usually think they’re only a couple of years off, right?

Try SEVEN, you Haggard-Ass Bitch.

He’s Fine.

He is thrilled with every bit of time He gets. And I face the aging thing hard. Everyone in my family acted like their looks were GONE when they turned 30, even though they’ve held up for decades. I resolved not to feel that way early. As soon as my mind lets me feel it, I fight back as hard as I can (and I always will), but I know I’ve just gotta go with some of it.


I don’t hate time. I’ve never looked like this or been this happy, and I mean to ride it as long as I can. It feels like I’m just getting started. We’ll see.

I need to be that Hot Old Man, please.

(side rant-What kind of time joke is it that the minute I become comfortable dancing is the exact moment I got to the age where you never want some rando to see you dancing, well or otherwise? Ain’t THAT a bitch? I can’t. I’ll keep to the shadows, but I will be dancing as long as my feet allow. I was going to wear baggy clothes, but if I don’t lean into my build, people won’t engage. It’s fine. You have to be very beautiful to have people watching just your face; I am not a percentage of that bitch. I have trouble looking like I’m having fun. It’s very militant. and if I don’t stay sucked in, it looks like Pregnant Jazzercise, but yeah.)

I was worried I’d like a certain type (young) when I got older; it seemed to be a recurring theme with men. I’ll tell you what, your tastes age with you.

Conrad Grayson in a speedo that is all I am saying. Conrad Grayson in a speedo.

I could die HAPPY.


Only one person would really make me happy in a speedo, and he won’t wear one.

I have tried!

But because it will make me happy, you know. Thanks a lot, Gay Marriage.

That poor man gets it unfiltered.

He loves it.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.


This made my day.

No, I’m not jealous, you are jealous.

Is He? Yes, he is.

Working Those High Waisted Jeans.

With Zero Fear.

The Audacity.

No, I am not jealous.

May I call him “Great White Shirt”?


May I call him “Jeans”?




Eyes on the Target.

I wish he was about… 37, but other than that.

I know it’s selfish. Whatever.


My Birthday is next week.

Every year before my Birthday, I get stressed.

It is weird because I love being alive and I’m prouder every year.

It’s a weird anxiety thing.

Last year, it was so bad I was passing blood.

This year, I’m just overly anxious.

It is an improvement.

I’ll never be satisfied with my (own) efforts, but I have been trying much harder, and this year, I can feel it.

“Maybe, next year, I’ll just be happy.”-He laughed like Amy Poehler.

BUTCH (Repost)

It is a fact that the guys in my class would invite me to all kinds of butch outdoor activities, and I would turn THEM DOWN!

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I always said, “No. I ain’t doing that.”

Oh yeah, the guys in my class were actually (mostly) decent wannabe gentlemen.

The popular guys never made me a target, really, maybe because it would’ve been too easy. I was usually the poorest.

I was thinking about that the other day. I was moaning about never being included, and it occurred to me that I did get the invite. I just pretended I didn’t see it. I just assumed it would be the same as at school, and the only boys I liked hanging out with were Harley, Veston and Justin. Justin, I had a very innocent crush on that I was never conscious of. Veston, was the first real friend I had who wasn’t my blood. I wanted to be Harley’s Brother. We already have brothers. I envied His family life. 

When you’re a gay man, people often assume you aren’t interested in straight male companionship, but that’s my baseline. That’s how I was raised.


On the other hand, I was working hard labor once, and I wasn’t watching close enough; I came around a corner, and the others were all standing in a windowless room waiting on me.

I ducked out, fighting not to cry.

They were going to hurt me until I stopped being gay, was what they were going to do. Or attempt at any rate. I’m sure there would have been plenty of deniable sexual torture. No, you got the wrong one. I’m not passing the threshold, and you can’t make me.

I wanted them dead for that nonsense.

Shit like that is why weapons are sometimes necessary.

No, if I’d had a knife on me, I know I’d have seriously injured at least one. He taught me to carry a knife non-ironically. I was never a stabber but a slicer. When I’m furious, especially, I don’t want you dead. No, I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you, and I don’t care about a reaction. You can sit there like the dead-weight so long as I can get at you. I don’t care. It makes no difference. 

Why DID YOU THINK I WAS GOOD IN BIOLOGY? Hello! Do you know how many times we were injured in the Ether?

Blood doesn’t scare me it gets me started.

I believe in being a good person, like a dumbass.

I am also one of the most Ruthless people I know to the point where it occasionally frightens me.

And I know Him.

My Father would stop after beating you.

I will never stop.

Then, I start feeling like He’s a Better Person.

That’s where I go.

I’m happy I live a life where that crazy-ass thinking isn’t necessary, but I can’t get rid of it.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it is Standard.

I know I’m a Monster who deserves to die shrieking.

Who are you?

I am also honest, and I am brave.

(He is so irritated right now, you can hear it, right? So de-fensive.)


I get it.

To survive where I grew up, My Dad had to make me a beast. There was no other option. The unfortunate truth is that it was so contradictory to my true nature that to be that Monster, I had to become something different mentally. It had to be done. It saved me from harm so many times. I have scars, but I am alive. I would not be alive if he did not teach me how to set it off. I know how to switch gears. I can make myself do things. Everyone should have access to that part of themselves.

I feel like I’m ignorant when most people I see are entirely human. “A beast with a heart of gold.” Someone said that once and I said, “yep.” That’s me. He’s good with people.

Now that I can be myself more or less safely, that other is still there.

It’s all me. I just prefer the logical me.

Are you aware of melee weapons constantly? In every room you go in? Girl, I know. You get it.

He is always angry about something. And now that I’m becoming strong like I should have been all along, he is mad I’m not a vigilante, but you can’t make a cute outfit out of them Hefty bags, now. Yes, I mean money.


It’s not like I didn’t consider it. I had an older friend who was going to TRAIN me (legit proper style), and he backed off when he realized how serious I was. I was 16. Oh my God, Chanzy-WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? He wanted to be Bruce Wayne without the passive income. Good lord. He told me I needed to enlist, and I wanted to freaking enlist, but senior year (2005), they were going real hard on gays in the military, and I will not be kicked out because I’m queer. Because I fucked up? Entirely, you got me. Because my sex doesn’t end in children? You are out of your mind. By the time it came to make the decision, I had decided I was done hiding. ♫You coulda had a bad Bitch!♫ You know you love me. That mess was a tragedy. I am the one who missed out—moving on. And I said 2012, not 2005. 2012. Yes, I did. Yes, I did!

That just came back.

Oh, that one was rough.

Oh, I’m gonna puke.


I should have goaded the guys into attacking me that day in the locker room. I should’ve gone the other way with it.

More than sex, what I really wanted was to lay out a room full of assholes.



On Rivals

I don’t have enemies(that I hate anyway), but even if my worst enemy showed up at my house begging for shelter because they were in danger, I wouldn’t let ANYONE through the door that meant to hurt them.

And! They would know that.

Because it’s what you do.

I don’t know why. You just do. And no, I DON’T expect anything but for them to get right the hell back out when it’s over.

Who wants a worthless rival? What are you declaring about yourself, with that?

You want to beat them, and not because of some circumstantial shit.

I know.


It’s fine.

We’re fine.


I have to exercise before I get in the tub!

I keep forgetting and I can’t put it off!


As Shelley Long once said.

He was so tired and grouchy this morning he broke down and drank coffee.

Yeah, today is MARVELOUS.

And now I have to SWEAT.

He’s fine, it’s fine.

I just want to live.


  1. I am so sorry and I’ve been sorry since it happened.

This is something I meant to do long before now. I saw something happen and I never said anything to anyone. I saw this happen with my own eyes. Here we go. 

One day, near the end of a school year (or a break), the other kids and I were killing time. We were all in groups doing various time-killing activities. 

We were in my favorite class. What made it my favorite was the subject matter and the HOT AS FIRE teacher. We all wanted to bang him. TO A PERSON, we all wanted some of that. Don’t start. I wanted him to take me home and keep me under the bed. He was the spank bank for almost a year-and-a-half.

So we are all sitting around talking, and the teacher started passing notes with a hard-looking pretty girl. Of course, I saw it, and– I knew what was up. If anything, I was jealous I couldn’t get his attention like that. Needless to say, I didn’t see what was really happening because I didn’t actually understand that they were not joking.

That shit went on for a minute, and it was escalating, evidenced by the smiling and flushing.

Alright, it’s about to get rough. 

There were only two boys in my class who had it worse than me. One had been the “loser” since freaking Kindergarten. I think it was because his hair was VERY red. I wish I were kidding. I could never see anything wrong with him except that he wanted their respect. You can’t care about people like that. The Other was a boy somehow unfortunate enough to grow up out in the woods like I did, without ever moving “in town”, without an ounce of muscle and without my unearned confidence. You fuckers were EVIL. And I did not help.

The Ginger was with me in this class and had noticed the same thing.

When the girl went to pass the note back to the teacher, he snatched it and tried to read it.

The man I had thought was attractive stood up, red-faced and backed this kid (under his PROTECTION) across the room and up against the freaking WALL, all the while screaming in his face.

He started so slow I thought he was going to jump on him, he jumped and spun around casually and confidently-


In his Face-


The kid is red everywhere, instinctively looking away, trying to disappear-


The back of his head hit the wall, hard-


The last part was the loudest-


First of all, we were in MiDDle SCHOOL, not Highschool, but alright. That mess was traumatic just to witness. He was macking on an eighth-grader.

I wish he would try the 34-year-old me.

You may not know this, but one thing I cannot stand is when strong people use that strength to harm weaker people instead of shielding them, which is why people are made strong in the first place.

Brutality has its place, and this was not it.

That I ever thought this man was attractive was immediately disorienting.

He actually had the nerve to sit right back down across from the girl. 

I couldn’t stop looking at him. 

I couldn’t even look in the direction of the kid. 

I understand he was disrespectful, but what this man was doing was beyond disrespectful and his reaction to his anger was unacceptable, to say the least, especially because it was him knowing he was guilty.

He saw me staring at him and gave me a mean look, thinking I’d melt or something.

I looked him dead in the face and said something topical and cutting.

He got sour and clamped down on it.

My expression dared him. I remember thinking, “I wish you would.”, maybe for the first time. I knew I couldn’t take him but I also knew that if he tried that nonsense with me he would have been fucked by the end of the day.

All I would have to do was tell the truth.

But it was already over.

(come to think about it, I did tell my Dad, basically trying to get him to do me a favor and beat his ass, but when he realized I hadn’t been threatened, and I hadn’t actually tried to intervene, he checked out. He basically said if I really wanted him to hurt him I would’ve jumped on him myself. No, I get it. I was right there. When I was describing the scene I told the truth about what I saw. He said, “He turned his back to you?” I had the shot, I just didn’t take it. That was the type if mess I was specifically supposed to prevent, especially with the weak. I had every bit of permission to berserk on evil shit, regardless of the situation, and I just didn’t. I assume it was because I liked him. And his reaction to a minor had frightened me on two fronts.)

I regret not throwing some desks. 

Is the main regret of that piece. 

He would never have done it to a popular kid or a kid with any friends, period.

What had happened was he’d been inappropriate with one student in a flirtatious manner and physically (and verbally) assaulted the other.

THAT is what happened.

Always be good, if you can.

Rank Up on those Dead-Eyed Bastards.

It is all they understand.

Being strong is meaningless if you can’t get your hands dirty.

Learn from my failure, It will never be okay.

It won’t.

It will not.

It will never be okay.


BopBop has to catch up in the Office, but he loves you and he will be available again soon.


I Think

When I get Home, I’m going to put on of my old teachers on blast.

He freaked outing a “loser“ kid because no one cared, but I was standing right there.

I didn’t say anything then but I didn’t have to,

I got it.

No, I got it.

Fuck you, “it’s too late”.

It’s never to late.

Vengeance has no expiration date.

What did you learn?


My older Brother and I were encouraged to (supposed to) carry short sticks everywhere.

I never understood. I thought it was about animals.

But we were also supposed to go at each other randomly. He was superior at launching an attack. I was better at defense.

I didn’t get it until they taught us about Sparta.

What The FUCK Man?

Acting like you invented it and shit.

My hands are soft nowadays but I’m still cold.

Yes, it was excellent Fathering. He will drive you insane, but you will be a capable insane.

If I have a Kid I hope I can teach them that crazy stuff.

But, who can run through the woods in the dark and shit?

If you have kids, make them strong. They will stop bitching, eventually.

We have done the research.

So much of my early training has come back and while parts of it are hard to watch, it did make me more than I was.

Tell Me

You Love Me

This Was My SHIT

First of all I freaking Loved the Fear Street Books. I read this in the 90’s. It was just better.

I’m looking at Netflix, they’re going into the backstory.

I don’t think I’m watching it but damn that’s nice.

Like when I started Game of Thrones right before it premiered. I had no clue.

You should read them, it’s pretty solid for a kid’s book.

No. Listen.

It’s a blood feud where there isn’t a “good side”

I would wash that man’s feet with my tongue.



What is that dance move called where someone leans back and furiously kicks as high as possible, straight up in the air?

I’d like to suggest “the Omega”.

It is a finishing move.

That is fucking magic.

If you’ve ever seen it you have been blessed. And you have lost.

I don’t know how you keep from hitting the ground.

Two Words- I WISH

I can do all kinds of shit on a trampoline but I will hit the floor so quick over footwork.

He growled like the monster he is.

I can legit belly dance , and that shit is HARD.

That fucking hurts.

They should teach everyone early.

Tonight’s Movie

Will be

Friday the 13th (1980)


Join us, won’t you?

(That was a messed up movie.)

The first time a guy caught my attention his name was Jason.


If you don’t count that babysitter I took a nap on.

Listen, I was in 1st grade. He was napping, it looked comfortable, what can I say?

I sort of ended up on the poor guys chest. And I did not move when we woke up.

He was so freaked out.

Michael? I wanna say his name was Michael?

He was literally, “I didn’t do anything!”

Me- “Oh my God, I know.”

I would not have said a word!

I’m behaving.

There was nothing sexual about that, except that I did find him handsome.

That’s right… I flipped it on him.


I don’t know how I know, but Female Sex Workers (most Sex Workers) have no time for homosexual men.

I thought it was the “no business” aspect.

It’s because the Homos will beat any price.*

I don’t know how I know, but it’s true.

(Or you know, whatever, if I gotta go there.)

(One day I’m going full OFF and I’m going to lose some of you. I loved you and I’ll always be happy I had your attention for a minute. You’re freaking Amazing. Darling.)


After Highschool I found a home with my Gay Family in Dothan.

What I never realized until recently was I have more contact with Black People in Slocomb.

Our school hadn’t been integrated long, but it was split pretty evenly. Teachers still dogged out Black and Hispanic kids.

Slocomb was half segregated, and Dothan was probably worse.

Out of school, I never really met any Black LGBTQIA People (Excluding performers). I assumed that is was because they did not have the freedom I did to express themselves.

That wasn’t it.

There were plenty of every sort of person.

The fact is a lot of the gay people where I am from are racist as a way to go along with the straights.

We all have to deal with plenty without preying on each other. There is no reason, and what we know better than to use are excuses. The straights can claim ignorance, we always know better.

Straights have the numbers to play with that nonsense.

We can’t.

WE cannot.


It was tenth grade(?). My acne was finally easing off, it had me four solid years. I was about 16. I was in my bathroom having a panic attack.

I couldn’t even settle into my clear face because my body started to swell. And I got oily again, leading to more flare ups.

I just kept growing. Everywhere, I remember being scrawny. It made me very sad.

I was adorable then a mean-looking lumberjack began sleeping in my bed.

I just felt like it was all fat. All people talk about is how much you weigh, and when I hit 190 I began to freak out. At first I just looked ripped, then the muscle didn’t stop growing. EVERYWHERE. My Shoulders have always looked like this, and my neck.

I thought I was by myself and let it out.

Dad was home and came in freaking out


I was already gone so I kept going,

“I was the heaviest kid in class!”

That fucking HURT.

He looked at me.

I motioned at my Frankenstein body, “it’s my LEGS.”

He said, “How much did you weigh?”

I told Him the truth.

He was astonished, then smiled and started laughing. He brightened up,

“You’re not fat, it’s muscle.”

He never told me I “wasn’t fat”. (It’s a great way to keep your kid humble. You know your parents fat-shamed you too Bitch we do not have time to pretend.)

It still looked gruesome to me. I looked scary. Like a monster. A full grown scary-ass looking man. I wanted to find that. Stepping into it was disorienting.

He kept me sane that day,

“Look at your arms, look at your shoulders.”

Something shifted, and I could see. I’m not tall,but I did have the body type I found attractive (then). I wanted to meet a guy who looked like that, not be that guy but, you know.

I still wasn’t sold, it was so much weight, and it did not help when the boys in my class figured it out. I was SO ASHAMED. Now that I look back, they weren’t freaked out that I was “so fat” but that they had no idea I was so heavy. I’ve always been heavier but when it came at puberty was rough. There was a period in my Late 20’s where I was concerned about the amount of muscle that came. I’m having toward another one now.

“I haven’t met anyone who weighs as much as me who isn’t very fat.”

He said- “How is that a problem?” he loves shit like that.

He could see that I couldn’t figure it out and wouldn’t be able to let it go.

Then, He dropped the hammer.

“It was probably the meds.”


“Yeah they had to give ya’ll all kinds of shit.”


My Grandfather and Great-Grandfather were thick like me.

Fact-I never know what my temperature or weight will be. It changes so regularly it’s impossible to guess. It’s always been that way.


North of Boston

I don’t know why I do this to You or myself.

Pump Your Brakes

Some parts of it seem off, but it has got the Bone Structure, Honey.

That is where it’s at.
There it is.
“It’s my new Day Room”
Fireplaces evarywhere
I think I’d live right there.
There’s Your Kitchen, Baby!
You’re Damned Right
I want that, please.
I think this is all the Master.

I cannot go on.

I know this is terrible, but if there isn’t an interior pool with a view of the ocean, I’m out.

But you know there’s one.

And Hopefully A salt or mineral bath with a STEAM ROOM, but alright.

Those trees lining the Driveway are a mess.

And I’d bring down anything useless that took away from the look.

That GARAGE looks fucking tacky. Pardon me, but fuck her. It’s the roof, no I don’t know how to fix it but I’d figure it out.

Dreams II

I can feel a specific type of dream brewing.

My mind was getting ready for it last night.

It is a puzzle dream of some type.

There will be others.

I hope so, anyway.

I want names.

(Stephenie? Was Your Name Stephenie? Attractive Tall, short Auburn Hair, glasses? It’s alright.)

I can’t know.

It feels like it might be a continuation of my “Dreamz” dream, but I am not getting my hopes up.

I don’t know the place or the situation.

One thing I’ve never done in my dreams is go OMEGA.

I have flown though, and that shit is tight.

I hope it isn’t a nightmare.

And I hope I win.

It was a fucking draw.


It’s alright.

I said, “Shakira”.

If you are wondering how I know.

Last night

There was a bright yellow light (not the same color but the same type)

And 3(?) others

At least.

I don’t know.

We’ll see.

I’ll let you know.

He will let you know.

Other Kids

Were playing with cars and I was learning how to make dream-catchers and shit.

They do work, and the answer is psychological.

When you make a dream catcher you’re supposed to let the nightmare have at you in every way it wants to come. It hurts, but it gives you something to do with your hands, and it almost always works.

If it’s your nightmare you have to make it.

Unless you know Somebody. Everyone knows that.

That’s what I was talking about the other day.

I forgot how to do it

and at one time I make one without looking down while describing the dream.

All at once.

It’s not Magic but it looks a lot like Magic.


When I was younger I loved watching my Mother put on makeup.

It was like watching her get ready for War.

She didn’t get ready like she was so pretty, she went at her appearance like a savage and fought it into submission.

You know what is appealing? Someone who can do everything with brushes.

I was never into anything beyond eye makeup, but I can respect talent.

That is incredible.

I see you, Fierceness.

You better strut.


He Thought because he didn’t get any fatter in the waist he was safe.

Every bit of weight I gained has just made other parts of my body jiggle unnecessarily.

It’s fine.

I’ll tell you how I found out.

I’m a believer in working out all over and as quick as possible.

I’m thinking about doing a workout short.

I’ll leave it up as long as they let me.

Not getting any younger.

If I can help you while bitch-slapping myself back on track, I will.

I’ll try to do all standing, we’ll see.

You gotta stretch

Drink more water



I used to swim in rivers in the rural panhandle.

People talk about Aligators and Water-moccasins but they miss the Gar. Those Hillbilly Piranha?

Oh my God, you never know what the river will feel like when you get in it which is weird for my OCD but alright.

I love to swim. I always have.

I would stay under so long it would worry people.

I swam on the bottom of the water so I could use the motion in my upswim.

We used to fight, me and everyone about who was the best.

My ultimate goal was to swim across Holmes Creek in one puff.

It was one of the larger spots depending on the day.

Never happened, obviously, -But!

At my peak river swimming, I could get just over halfway on one puff, and it was incredible. Any River. And if I couldn’t I tried all day until I could. I loved it, especially when it didn’t reek.

My Brother saw it and was so impressed he got worried and that is my freaking FAVORITE. YES.

It is a fact that I did take it in two puffs and boss out of the water. Then I was immediately fatigued. I went into a gay panic when I realized I’d have no choice but to swim back. It was so overwhelming that I knew if I tried to swim while looking ahead I’d drown. Since I was already stimulated, the monster took over. Instead of diving, I walked in. When I had to kick off, I faced where I was leaving. Using my legs, I kicked across to the other side. It seized longer and was more painful than I imagined, but I did Make It.

There aren’t springs around here like back home. THAT is where it’s at. (Spring Swimming) If they accept my bid for Cypress Springs I could find happiness in the Panhandle Wilds.

No, I didn’t wear goggles. It was as if no one had seen a pair. You can see underwater, just not great. River water doesn’t fuck you up like pool water.

Trust Me.

I’m white about this.

You know you love it.

People say “fun” like they


jumped out of a tree into the river.

We are not the same.


History has always been my favorite subject. I didn’t even know it until after I was done with school. (He’s a goober.)

As far as history goes, I’ve always thought that understanding history is essential to a better future. Patterns repeat themselves. That’s why old people walk around sounding like prophets and shit. 

When I got out on my own, it occurred to me that they don’t teach Eastern History in Western Schools. (Not the low-rent schools I went to anyway) That aggravated me because Americans never shut up, so our information is just out there. Everywhere, all the time. Worse, many Americans act like our history is the only one that matters. It’s just disrespectful and lazy. 

Oh, say, can you see?

Fortunately, there is a book for that.

Anything you want to know, it’s out there.

Now, at least I am not entirely clueless. 

There was one point in my life where the only Asian Countries I could point out were China and Japan. That is fucking shameful but it us the truth. A grown-ass man who got A’s in History. I cannot.

Now, I’ve gotten better at Geography and History.

I was very insecure about my lack of knowledge.

Whatever you feel you need to learn, even if you can’t afford to go back to school, you can learn. There is a book for that.

We let our insecurities drive from the backseat when we should be hauling ass.

It’s alright. I know. And, I know it freakin’ hurts.

Knowledge is power, and being powerful involves pain.

That you already knew.

SideRant- I have never understood why the formation of the earth isn’t included in a HISTORY class, but whatever. THAT was a gap that was uncomfortable as HELL to fill. But you ain’t coming at this bitch with that religious malarkey. Never again. Do you know how much scripture I had memorized at one point in my life? No, you do not. I am behaving.


Yesterday, I had trouble eating.

It turned into trouble sleeping.

Late last night, it had been so long since I ate I got hunger pains.

You know those, it feels like you’re being punched and somehow also gassy.

I’m alright.

I knew I should’ve grabbed something sooner, but I didn’t.

Don’t ever think you’re okay not to eat.

You have to eat, bitch.

Today’s Breakfast will be Pancake on a Stick

And I Better not hear any shit about it.


Are we finally at the spot where I’m allowed to admit the feminine men are where it’s at?

Is that alright yet?

Obviously, I can only speak for my personal preferences, but still.

Age is irrelevant. Yes, pretty. And a little frail-looking, if I’m honest. He can be bigger so long as I can lift him.

When I was a growing up, I was taught to despise men who were delicate or feminine.

Now, they could stand in line.

I’m am behaving!

I’m allowed to like what I like.

All of my friends and family assumed that I’d end up with a beast.

One of my Friends actually said, “A Beast.”

I tried Girl (but I didn’t ).

Never met a gay guy who was a strong as me who wasn’t also an Alpha Gay, and they wear on my nerves. I love Ya’ll but You are some mean Bitches. I don’t even pretend to try and keep pace with that.

Maybe the distaste for feminine guys isn’t about them at all.

You’d know that if you ever slept with one.

I said I’m behaving.

There is nothing wrong with whatever you’re into. (I am speaking to the Humans)

If you like masculine guys, go at him.

It just seems like My People are still in 1972 about this. At the very least, we have to protect them. We can’t allow people to mess with any of us.

Get past it, you will feel so much better.

You better let that boy sing.

I would rather see actual gay people, thank you. That is what I like.


When I first got out on my own my Mother gave me some good advice.

She said, “Don’t sleep with anyone.”

It was the Exact opposite of what EveryOne else was saying.

Basically, it was the 6 Month rule.

I know she was worried about me picking up something from a VERY small dating pool.

“God gave you hands for a reason.”


No, that is not what I had heard.

By then, I thought the manual override was dull.

It’s was really good advice, though.


Before I was afraid of the dark, I would nap outside at anytime, wherever I found a spot.

When you live out in the country you can do that.

I’d always get sleepy a sunset, doze off for an hour and get home before the stars were out.


I passed out like I had many times before.

I woke up from a nightmare in pitch freaking black. It was so dark it was heavy.

The only sense I had was the dirt under my feet.

I was disoriented and ended up walking in the WRONG DIRECTION.

and ended up at the road.O


I remember turning around and realizing what I did. I started crying immediately. I couldn’t even scream for help for fear of drawing something towards me.

Our Driveway.

Oh my GOD our Driveway.

First of all, you had to know how to drive it or it’d fuck up your car. SECOND OF ALL, it was a freaking nightmare to navigate in the dark, in a car. On foot was worse. Worst of all, it was a mile of dirt road, with a Bait-Bed Jungle-Forest on the Left and a Giant (Children of the) Corn Field on the Right.

That one hurt.

Yes, I did start crying.

Mainly, I remember thinking I wouldn’t be able to get back, that something or someone would stop me.

When my foot hit the dirt I had to stop myself from running. Those first few steps hurt.

I know that by the time I got home I was so freaked out I was doing the full terror giggle.

My Father was stone sober and said, “I thought you were in bed.”

I said, “I fell asleep.”, motioning outside.

He that knows me said, “You Alright?”

“I had a nightmare.”

He put it together

“Won’t be doin’ that again, huh?”

He had a way with getting right to the point.

No Sir, I will not.

It was crazy because at least a few times I woke up to a beautiful sky and floated home like Kirby.

Then-WHAM! The Other Half.


I can be very naive, is the point of that one, I think.

Sweet Dreams.