Friday, August 31, 2001

gonna be a fun weekend online

Baby boy45911240 [11:38 PM]: hi
bjland [11:44 PM]: hey
Baby boy45911240 [11:45 PM]: hi
Baby boy45911240 [11:45 PM]: asl
bjland [11:45 PM]: huh?
Baby boy45911240 [11:46 PM]: age sex place
Baby boy45911240 [11:48 PM]: 4 get it want to play truth or dare
Lil lplaya456 [6:36 PM]: hi
Bjland[6:37 PM]: hey, whats up?
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: asl
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: r u gay or straight
Bjland [6:37 PM]: who are you?
Lil lplaya456 [6:37 PM]: asl
Bjland [6:38 PM]: what does that mean?
Lil lplaya456 [6:38 PM]: bye

um, asl = american sign language? asshole? what? what??
4 time-warner/road runner guys in my apartment this afternoon.

you'd think I'd have some sort of HOT story to share, eh? Naw, it's the 7th visit in 6 weeks, and they still aren't sure why my connection goes out twice a day. staying in town this weekend, one possible hook-up with a guy who wants to see my porn collection ( I need to use that line more often); a couple of pals who will be in town as well, so may do something with them. And of course, PIGSTOCK, the post-Wigstock event this Sunday night at the Cock. Should be fun; those 3-day weekend Sunday nights seem to bring out the best in folks......

Thursday, August 30, 2001


The nice thing about August, even in lower Manhattan, you can hear crickets chirping in the middle of the night. It's 3:30 am, the coffee I had with dinner is keeping me up, but not in that bad, agitated, way. Vespertine is playing, the crickets sound like they are part of the music, and I'm contemplating the evening. I dunno, I couldn't even do my "cynical" version well; it was a real nice evening. Sure, he won't ever become my husband, but I don't want to look at guys in terms of either husband material, or dismissable fuck-buddy status. I want to be more open-minded; I don't have a set of criteria that any potential friend, of whatever type, has to meet. Sure I talk about preferences (hairy guys, "natural" crotches, around my age, etc) but that's not set in stone. So, as the tunes play on the cheap CD player I have in my bedroom, and Frenchie's DNA is all over my torso, I find myself with a warm, pleasant feeling....

ok, you want the sex details? slurp slurp, squish squish; woah, not yet, i don't wanna just yet; ooooh, don't stop that; naw, go ahead, put both of them in there..... Seriously, we've done "it" twice before, and so nothing was a surprise, but it was more comfortable, yet intense; even more kissing and we took our time, stopping "at the edge" several times. But soon enough, contorted somewhere behind him, my face getting quite the aromatic rush of fresh sweaty hairyman, he didn't stop when I pleaded for him to, and within seconds he joined me, showering quite a bit all over me.... and then, we maneuvered over to the couch (we were somewhere on the floor near one of the mirrors at that "special" moment), and we layed together, talking, kissing lightly, him petting my chest, brushing my body hair with his soft, firm hands.....

Earlier, at dinner, sometime after he had explained a bit about his 2 relationships, and we were on to another topic, he looked at me and said "We haven't spent the night together yet". The implicatin quite clear, that he wants to, and expects to, at some time in the future. He has a gentle, warm manner, and I'm sure I'll get into that; it's been awhile for a sleepover, and he said he couldn't on a work night. He's away this weekend, so, I guess it'll happen sometime in September. His hands found their way under the table to my legs, gently carressing them as we talked about nothing.

So, I'm still keeping my options open, and yes, while he is quite Bjork-worthy, I hope to continue interviewing over the next couple of weeks..........

cynical version: so, the date called yesterday around 6:30 (let's call him Frenchie, its just easier than figuring out a fake name). He casually says "sorry about rushing you off the phone last night (Tuesday), but John and I were having an argument about me dating." hmmmm. I didn't ask (then, at least) and we arranged to meet at a place on Ave B for dinner. But I thought "nice way to slip that in, now at least I know you are involved" - so, not Bjork-worthy?....

So, at 8:30, I see him waiting in front of the restaurant, he had a cute, funnyish walk (in a good way) and he looked good. A few minutes into dinner, I ask something along the lines - "what's the deal with this "john" you mentiioned on the phone?" long story short, he's been seeing this guy pretty much the whole time he's lived in New York (2 years) but he doesn't consider him his boyfriend. Hmmmm, ok..... Then he clarifies - "When I was 23 I met someone, and we have been together since; but he still lives in Paris, and I wanted to take this opportunity here, in New York" So, he's got a 15-year relationship with the "boyfriend" and a 2-year relationship with "john", and here he is, on a date with me, our 3rd time together, but our first time having a meal, a "real date". So, okay, we have a meal, we blow each other, we say goodbye, right?

Yahoo! review by 15 year old of Bjork's VESPERTINE - gosh, I wish I had a friend this cool when I was 15! oh yeah, and hit the "recommend" button, so the kid sees his numbers go up.......

well, I didn't sneeze once all day, didn't need to take the theraflu, and had the date, as scheduled. Even handsomer than I had remembered; a nice meal, and, well, a nice desert. While I don't see us getting hitched, I do feel we'll see each other again. Details later..........

Wednesday, August 29, 2001

Why am i getting a headcold? ugh! just in time to ruin a date I have for tonight (would've been only my 3rd date of 2001!) He's a frenchmen, nice and hairy, and we've actually had sex twice before. When I emailed him last week, just to say "hey", he emailed back right away, saying "Maybe we could have dinner in addition to sex? We did not meet on M4M4dinner, but what the hell..."? - sounded good to me, but while I think the TheraFlu might get me thru dinner, I might not be that fun when its time for the sex. I think he's one of those guys who goes out of town every weekend, so if I don't see him tonight, I'd probably have to wait a week, if not more....... grrrrr. And yes, he's a nice guy, very affectionate, and perhaps even Bjork-worthy.

The guy I met at the Cock Sunday, well, we spent a lot of time together that night, but, alas, outside, unlocking our bikes, he went on and on (and on and on....) about how while he felt he wanted to exchange numbers, he also didn't feel he wanted the "responsibility" of dating. But he didn't want to "just have sex". I just listened, looking at his handsome face, cute, edible butt, and that splot on my shirt that he "gave" me, thinking "um, I really ain't in the mood for talking someone into seeing me again, but I like your New Yawk accent, so keep talking, handsome....." He said something about preferring to leave it to chance if we see each other again (meaning: "if i see your mouth in the backroom again, I'll be sure to fuck it") but that he thought I was nice, hot, all that, so he feels a bit mixed up (and I'm thinking, "well, when your head and your big, thick, juicy cock figure it out, I'm in the white pages"). Now, I know I may seem a bit shallow, having already pictured him in that seat next to me at Radio City, based just on the fact that he's a fantastic kisser, has a great body, and a rather tasty set of fuzzy balls and quite a challenging appendage (and I LOVE a good challenge!).

But quite seriously, Bjork-worthyness really comes from whether they are affectionate; I eat that shit up. I miss it terribly; the morning kiss on the back of the neck as you get up to make coffee; the quick peck as he gets off the subway at his stop; the snuggle as you laugh at the Simpsons together; and feeling his heart beat as you rest your head on his chest, while his arm is around you, and you dose off once again............

Tuesday, August 28, 2001


it's not meant to be a strife
it's not meant to be a struggle uphill

u n d o

undo : if you're bleeding
undo : if you're sweating
undo : if you're crying

u n d o

the disc is playing on my p.c. It's more wonderful, somehow more fuller than the bootleg/internet versions I've been listening to; obviously they had some fun in making the album version a bit different than the pre-released one that's been on the internet for months..... It's an amazingly magical sounding album. It fills my heart with hope and joy, I can laugh and cry simultaneously. And i'm so excited to be going to the concerts in October at Radio City. Thursday night, my pals Mark and Phil (ex#1, the sweetest man I know), as well as Jeff, his boyfriend, and Noel will be there. (jeff just emailed that he and Noel met for lunch, went to Sounds to buy their copies, and saw me on my bike, headphones on, oblivious to their calls!) I have the extra ticket which could go to some new person (are YOU BJORK-WORTHY??), but I also have a good friend who is waiting in the wings. It makes me happy to be able to share them, and not be tempted to scalp, and make lots of dough - it promises to be a wonderful night. Friday night I go with another good friend, ex#2, Jim. It's amazing to me that somehow, I will be sharing this night with my favorite people in the world......


Monday, August 27, 2001

"We're like crystal, we break easy
I'm a poor man if you leave me
I'm applauded, then forgotten
It was summer, now it's autumn"

1:45 a.m. By the time New Order's 10 minute+ remix of Crystal was playing, my jockstrap was pulled down under my balls, both my hands were pushing at the back of his head, and my sweat was dripping off me and onto him. Patrick Cowley's 1982 megamix of I Feel Love found me squatting, inhaling his heavy, sweaty, fuzzy balls, so there was no need for poppers.
1:00 a.m. It was unusually dark in there. I spent 5 minutes, received several grab and runs, and I went back up front, parking under the huge speaker. Bored, I soon dove back in, but this time, the curtain must've parted, because there was enough light to recognize a handsome short muscular guy I've seen in the neighborhood. I followed him into a corner, he sat down, but I was too shy to make the first move. I guess he could tell I was interested, and his arms grabbed my hips, pulling me in. A little off balance, I fell forward, putting one hand against the wall, the other on the back of his head. He looked up, beautiful smile, and I tasted his full, sweaty goatee.
3:30 am, I'm standing in front of the freezer doors, looking at the Haagen Das, $1.99 sign, and the night has peaked again. So, after I grab 2, I go to the empty check-out line, standing under some powerful florescent lights. The guy on the cell phone comes over to ring me up; too busy talking, he doesn't seem to notice I've got this big wet spot on my undershirt, running down from the collar, just below the wet, matted chest hairs. I must've lost 5 pounds sweating in that backroom.

Sunday, August 26, 2001

2 days until Vespertine goes on sale. And BJORK's website keeps getting cooler every day. The "splashpage" has a cool little Flash-enhanced thing going on. While I've been priviledged to have most of the new material on my hard drive, and have been listening to it constantly for over a month already, I can't wait to have the new disk in my hands. I also got my 2 pairs of tickets in the mail for Oct 4th, at Radio City (2 friends and me are slated, plus I have one "extra" for a "very special person" who has yet to materialize - auditions are being held in numerous locations throughout lower Manhattan).

I've already decided my scenario for my "perfect death" - (don't worry, i ain't going anywhere, but lots of folks imagine the music for their memorial service, or where they want their ashes strewn, that sort of thing, so....) anyway, I am on my bike, peddling as fast as my little hairy legs can take me, and my walkthing is playing Bjork's Unison (the last song on the new album). I am getting closer and closer to Gulfoss (remind me to share a pic of myself sitting near the amazing Falls), as the music reaches it's peak, and the final chorus repeats:

let's unite tonight
we shouldn't fight
embrace you tight

and I give that last thrust on the pedals, and going flying into the golden falls, permanently becoming part of one of the most beautiful places on earth

you are getting sleepy,
very sleepy

I am your master

you will obey me

Saturday, August 25, 2001

I'm super
Thanks for asking
All things considered
I couldn't be better I must say

I'm feeling super
No, nothing bugs me
Everything is super when you're
Don't you think I look cute in this hat

................. seriously, i had a really great day yesterday, with only one teeny thing going wrong (i had cafe con leche at around 9pm, and goddamn, I had the most restless sleep since, well, oh, Wednesday night). But, Ex #1 called, he had the day off, was heading up to MOMA, and asked if I wanted a quick bite to eat. At breakfast, I invited myself along, which he seemed pleased about, and we had a nice day checking out this German architect guy, plus some Picassos, Klimt, a bunch of canvases with cans of soup, etc.

Later, got a call from another pal, and we had a nice leisurely dinner at Bennie's, my favorite local Mexican restaurant (and the aforementioned cafe con leche, yum!). And finally, went to see a film with another pal, and damn, I hate bandwagon jumping, but shit! Hedwig is a fantastic film - just beautiful. Who knew all those queer bloggers could be right? Rather than give you my take on it (I'm still absorving it, actually) I can just tell you that I was just so impressed with everything about this film - character, direction, music, acting, camera angles, just everything! - the story was so interesting and so well-told. blah blah blah. anyway, it wasn't crowded, so see it soon before it goes to video (you have to see it in the theatre!)

i'm supposed to meet some stranger in Union Square in a few minutes, he promised me free porn movies! Gee, could this weekend get any better???

Friday, August 24, 2001


several amazing emails in the past 24 hours. If I havent written you back yet, I will, and thanks!!

But since I've been ORDERED to get out of the house, i'm posting this thing below, then AMSCRA-ING !


naw, don't worry, she's not back. But after posting the piece below, feeling sorry for myself, and unable to sleep, I picked up this old (Dec 1977) Alternate magazine I had just gotten from eBay. I bought it because it had a picture of Fred Halsted on the cover, and promised an article on Sam and Joe Gage. That article was only 2 pages, but quite good. But it had this great pic of Ms Bryant all pie-faced, several articles on the whole pie-throwing thing, and some other cool stuff (Harvey Milk gets elected, music reviews giving Talking Heads 77, Rocket to Russia, and Never Mind the Bullocks 4 stars or more and Saturday Night Fever soundtrack 1 star! HOW COOL IS THAT?)

anyway, seeing that pie in her face, reminding me that at age 16, having just come out to one person, and seeing this bit of hope, these cool fags doing "nonviolent" protest........... ahhhh... anyway, if you want to see the actual 1 minute video, go here, or if you want to read more thoughts about her, (or at least see the old "anita bryant sucks oranges" pin!) go here.

Thursday, August 23, 2001

yeah! imagination Christmas!
ok, so you know it aint so bad when you can answer the phone saying Stupid Sexy Flanders and one of your best friends laughs uncontrollably cuz he's watching the same rerun. (sorry, couldn't find pic of Flanders in skisuit - "It's like wearing nothing at all!")

the last one

5am, and I can't sleep. While I know it's the coffee I reheated at midnight, I can't stop thinking about the last boyfriend, the one who dumped me 2 years ago, on Gay Pride Day, with barely any warning, and no explanation. And, except for a phone conversation, and one feeble attempt a few days later of getting some sort of explanation, I hadn't seen or heard from him in 2 years, until the end of June this year. Now he's always hanging out at one of my local bars, and it's really getting annoying.

I suppose I still have those secret hopes of him coming to his senses, and he begs for me to come back to him; I mean, he's beautiful, and I haven't had any sort of decent relationship since we were together, so I guess it's natural. But I'm finding myself getting all angry at him, and at me, all over again. I mean, I've made myself completely unattractive to anyone. I don't shave, clean my apartment, or even consider looking for a job. I have nothing of any interest to say to anyone (the porno obsession is just not that fascinating to any of my pals). I haven't spoken to anyone in my family in months, I just sit here, glued to this machine, waiting for Mr Right to pop out of my monitor?

Pitiful. And I think of something he said when I did finally speak to him a few weeks (months? I have no sense of time anymore) back. He said our problem was that we weren't trying to make each other, or the relationship, any better. Interesting. This is from the guy who anytime we had a serious discussion of any type would say "are we done yet" "are we done yet" like a small child in the back of the car saying "are we there yet, are we there yet". The same guy who broke up with me twice before only days after we had serious discussions about "us". And me, the guy who offered him money when he was really really stressed out and needed a vacation; Me, the guy who offered my spare room when he couldn't find an apartment to his liking but his old lease was up; Me, the guy who stood out if front of his apartment at midnight yelling up to the window, calling from a payphone, banging on the door, waking up the neighbors, getting the police and the super to let me into his apartment because we had just talked on the phone, and he asked me to come from the lower east side to Queens so he could see me, and now there was no answer - he was passed out on the couch! Drunk, stoned, who knows, but scared the fuckin' shit out of me, and I looked like a fool, and I cried when I realized he was okay, and how scared I was to think something horrible had happened to him............ Me, the guy who when he was telling me it was over that final time, I tried to console him, tried to help him understand it, make sure it was the best decision for him........ until it hit me, and I realized he didn't want or need me for that, and there was no one to do that for me, and I yelled, and made him take his clothes that were in various drawers in my place, especially the $160.00 Prada t-shirt I bought him for Christmas because I knew it would drive me crazy to have it in my house, and yes, I wanted him to wear it and feel guilty and miss me.....

So who is this we that didn't try? This is where my Dad would say something like: "We?" "What's all this ' we ' stuff, Paleface?"

I'm a mess, and it's his fault for making me this way......... and it's my fault for staying this way for so long............

how long does it take before you can let go, before you can move on, and actually want, desire, something better than feeling sorry for yourself............?

Wednesday, August 22, 2001

I'm not gay, but my ass is

I know, I know - it's really lame to use those Yahoo "Top terms visitors used to find your page in a search", but it's not often I'm ON TOP of a Google search page , so I couldn't pass up "i will let any stranger cum in my gay ass"
more porn, please

This is a "publicity shot" of Fred Halsted and Richard Locke, the stars of El Paso Wrecking Corp . I got 3 cool old mags yesterday - 2 from 1980, one from 1977. The 1977 one has a 2 page interview with Sam and Joe Gage on the eve of the release of their 2nd film, El Paso Wrecking Corp., which was quite fascinating.

Joe Gage: "The films are our version of what is 'pop' masculinity. I prefer 'pop masculinity' to 'macho' because I think 'macho' is one of the most sick, troubled American hang-ups that has been around for the last hundred years or so. Which is what i want to say about this picture. The most masculine men in El Paso and Kansas City do not swagger. They're not riping 2-by-4s with their teeth. The most masculine men in the picture are rather calm, and always have a sort of happy-go-lucky smile on their face, and they take life and sex pretty easily."

that's me, a true "GAGE MAN" taking life, and sex, easily (yeah, I wish!)

Tuesday, August 21, 2001

why am I hungover? I barely left the apartment yesterday, except to look at the too long line at the post office (and therefore, not picking up what I think is my Jack Wrangler video - Killing Me Softly). No beer, no dope, just bad television, ice cream, oh, yeah, and phone sex. Can phone sex give you a hangover? Well, the guy said he'd call me today - yeah, that and a subway token.........

Meanwhile, surfing around this morning I was surprised to see that my pic is still on Pork's website (the Wednesday night party at The Lure). I sent it in over a year ago, and the next thing I know, they're having a contest of some sort, and then a pal of mine submits his pic.... well, fortunately, neither of us won, so we didn't have to hate each other. But as you look around the site, you'll see they don't update much, but if you guess which one is me, I'll send you a nice prize, K?

oh yeah, I was also downloading all this Village People music; most of which I deleted during the first playback - I was very disappointed that the Japanese version of YMCA turned out to be so fuckin' scratchy (why upload a scratchy song?). It all started after reading this funny Simpson's reference while blogsurfing last night. Reminded me that, at age 17, I actually used to whack off to the back cover of Macho Man ( 3 guesses which Village Person got me hardest!) Even more embarassing, I used to whack off to the back cover of Cat Steven's Catch Bull At Four (hey, that sprinkling of chest hair, the tight black pants, and that beard!). As with most websurfing, I wind up on some crazy hunt for useless information- last night it was trying to find out if the rumors that the Village People actually filmed a commercial for the U.S.Navy was true. I at least found that when they appeared on a Bob Hope special in 1979, that was taped on the helicopter carrier Iwo Jima, which also featured Don Knotts and a 14-year old Sarah Jessica Parker performing something from Annie!!

god! I really need to go look for a job!

til then.....
yvan eht nioj

Monday, August 20, 2001

weird night.

After paying admission, grabbing a beer, and seeing few people in the front of the Cock, I headed to the back. Pitch black. Really - no light at all; I tried to let my eyes adjust, but there was nothing to adjust to. So, heading in, I was surprised by the number of hands on various parts of my body. I guess folks just felt more free to explore since none of us could see each other. I was even more surprised at my body's reaction. Very hard, very fast. Normally, i am real real slow to respond. But this was just the sense of touch, and aroma, without "judging" the source of the touch or smell, that got me hard. But, alas, each guy who grabbed and poked and massaged, got bored rather quickly and moved along. Soon I found myself in an area that had no one in it, a good song came on, so I headed back to the front of the bar (and the light).

Later, when I returned to the backroom, there was lighting, and most guys were much shier. Well, except, unfortunately, the guys I wasn't particularly interested in. But eventually someone came along, slurp slurp, grab grab, but soon his hands, and full attention, were on someone else. While I am not against sharing, I was clearly not invited to share. And this must have happened like 3 or 4 times last night - someone would start off with me - grab grab, slurp slurp - then would soon get distracted, and, apparently, quite enthralled, with someone else!

And then later, some guy I know just from the local bars was back there, and while we sorta tried to keep our distance (the 4-1/2 feet rule) we kept getting dangerously close. Then he said, rather loudly to me, "UGH, no cute guys back here!" I hate when folks talk loudly in a backroom - loud grunts and groans are cool, of course , but just start chattering loudly? naw....... not to mention the obvious perhaps-not-meant-to-be-but-still-insulting "NO cute guys" comment. Oh well, my ankles were sore from the previous day's sunburn, and my regulation boots were starting to take their toll on those ankles, so I hopped on the bike, and watched god-knows-what on T.V. while downing the obligatory 3 am microwave popcorn and 1/2 pint of premium ice cream.

Sunday, August 19, 2001

nice weekend on lawnGUYlin; but haven't had sex in...............gee, it CAN'T be 10 days, can it???? well, that was with the date, and while we did play phone tag thursday, I don't think I should wait for him. Looks like some COCK ACTION tonight, despite certain parts of my anatomy being sun-burned!

Friday, August 17, 2001

that's Mr. Pevert!

i think there's a saying (maybe in showbiz?) to the effect that there's no such thing as bad publicity ..... so, I guess any sort of blogmention is better than none, eh?

so it was with some amusement that I stumbled upon this blogger's August 9th entry:

Ackkkk!!!!! There's a pevert out there named bj who's blogging a site called "bj's gay porno-crazed ramblings". Don't confuse him for me!!!
posted by Bj P. on 12:20 PM

I've been called worse in my 40 years on this planet; and maybe he won't mind if some of my peverted readers check out his page to see if there's any cause for concern over confusing the two of us!

later! off to see if my buddy Mark and I can stand 48 hours together (you'd never know we lived together for 3 years!)
Goddess sparkle
A mountain shade
Suggests your shape
I tumbled down
On my knees
Fill the mouth
With snow
The way it melts
I wish
To melt
Into you
Utter mundane

FUCK FUCK FUCK YEAH YEAH YEAH. going to see her both nights at Radio City. Oct 4th and 5th. FUCK FUCK FUCK YEAH YEAH YEAH.

Goddess sparkle
Shoot me
Beyond this suffer
The need
Is great
Utter mundane

Spring, 1995

One of the many wonderful gifts I've been given over the years. This was from boyfriend #2, a trip to Paris together. His itinerary was much fuller than mine; I wanted to be out in the parks and public spaces, just people-watching, and absorbing, and of course, re-visit the Musée Picasso (I had been for the first time in the summer of 1985). At the time I didn't fully appreciate his insistance on packing the first few days so full of museums and landmarks; and when we were in the museums, I found it slightly amusing that he would quickly, and meticulously, check for certain works, almost like he was taking inventory. Of course, he worked in a museum, and he loved this stuff, and wanted me to, as well.

But the amazing thing was, once we were inside a museum, he never rushed me. While he wanted to make sure we saw a lot, he also would stand back, without me ever asking, and just let me become totally absorbed in various works. I was surprised at how a painting, or sculpture, could jump out at me, and intrique me, and make me get all quiet and insular, or giggly, or yeah, cry. It was very emotional for me, in that fantastic "why-don't-I-do-this-more-often?" way. I wandered, or sat down for long periods, staring, waiting for crowds to move away; and all the while he would keep his eye on me, so I would get the most out it, without imposing on me. And every once in awhile, he'd put his arm around me, firmly, not really knowing what I was feeling, or thinking, but knowing it was good, and knowing how happy he'd made me bringing me there.

This was the trip when I learned that there was a term for my favorite Picasso "style" - classicist, and after that time, I've sought these out. Later that day, we wound up at the Musée de l'Orangerie, the place with Monet's waterlillies (it was our 5th museum of the day, and tired, I briefly sat on this ledge, only to have this loud siren go off, and dozens of tourists giggle and point at me!). But walking through the galleries, in the distance I spotted something we didn't know was there, another Picasso, and I approached it step by step, slowly taking it all in. This teeny picture of it of course doesn't do it any justice, but this is when it all began to fit together. I suddenly realized that another of these had been with me all the while I was growing up on the south side of Chicago. I remembered my mother bringing it home, and making a simple plain frame for it, staining it herself, and she hung it in our living room. I've never seen the original, and as much as I know it would be cool, it isn't necessary to go to Washington to see it; I grew up looking up at it when we unwrapped xmas gifts, and when our parents would dance to Simon and Garfunkle for us, and during the fights we had with our parents when we were teenagers. At the time I didn't even know it was called The Lovers, but thinking about all this, the bf came up along side me, and took my hand, and we just quietly enjoyed another beautiful moment.

Thursday, August 16, 2001

well, yesterday was a good day.

I could go on about my disappointment about not hearing from my "real date" (you know, planned ahead of time, dinner, talking, and then slurp slurp squish squish) of last week; but of course, it doesn't mean he won't EVER call, and then there are the possible complicating factors of why dating could be problematic (like, he works 20 hours a day, I don't do shit all day; we both dated the same guy some years back - not at the same time, but still, a bit incestuous, ya know?)....... anyway, no point in worrying about that when we haven't even gotten to the "phone call after the date" part, right?????

But, the good stuff, right? ....... "won" an auction for an old Francis Ellie video with Jack Wrangler (Killing Me Softly, where Jack realizes his new lover is actually a serial killer! the Brooklyn Bridge scene alone is worth the 20 bucks!) in the original P.M. Productions box, that I'm very excited about. Also got an invite to the beach for the weekend. While I'm not one of those "gotta get outta Manhattan" types - (I don't ride the subway, I rarely go above 14th street or west of 2nd avenue, but it is August, and really stinks here in the heat!) - it'll still be real nice to have some time near the ocean, and of course, spend time with my buddy Mark (who seems to get peeved each time I refer to him as "another fag" or "a fag" so, maybe THE FAG is better?) and how about a pic of him "partying" in the 80's? (and you're right, those aren't tacky gold buttons, but Reese's Peanut Butter Cups) ............ and what was the 3rd thing about yesterday that made me happy? damn! Oh yeah, sold a copy of BJ Does It Again, which I should be shipping out today along with some other stuff - yup, I love my local post office, and they love me..... gosh, must be the caffeine at 7 am, my body is NOT used to this! Time to get some more sleep.....

Wednesday, August 15, 2001

I'm really bad at doing the stuff I'm supposed to do (like get a job), but, the fact that it's getting harder to look down and see my cock these days has made me give some serious thought to joining my local gym. If I thought I'd have any chance of looking like my pal to the right here, I'd definately do it, ya know. But it's so much more fun to just sit on my (ever-increasing-in-size) ass here and look at the pictures. Click him if you want to make your own muscle bear. Or, if you're into dirty talk, or any other bear-inspired games, check out these German guys at Big Boy Productions ( I did much better at the cubs matching game than either the bears or daddies.)

Tuesday, August 14, 2001

he thinks I'm gay?

I don't have a gym membership, I don't know who Kate Spade is, I haven't a clue what a gold card is, and the last time I walked down 8th avenue, i got knocked into the gutter by an army of breast implants; but I do have an apartment full of Russel Wright dinnerware, one of my all-time favorite movies is Straight Jacket, and I enjoy the occasional face-fucking.

You'd think after 5 days without alcohol I could actually start making sense, but, alas, I can't. I think I was so happy that my date last Thursday seemed to dig me despite me not getting his "gay references"; and we laughed, as well, about him not getting mine, that today, several days later, I'm a bit disappointed that I haven't heard from him. I don't want all those insecurities about income-level, knowledge about designers, and body image to resurface. Who am I kidding, I'm not worried about that stuff, and I don't think it's important to him, otherwise I wouldn't have been that attracted to him (okay, okay, he has a ton of body hair, smells great, and has really kissable lips) but I liked his other, non-physical qualities, and hoped to get to learn more about them. So, I just need to take a deep breath, and keep reaching for that rainbow!

Men Come First
That's the title of a film I've been trying to remember for years which revolves around a door-to-door salesman (played by Brian Granger) selling "marital aids". One of the few from the late 70's that used a good dose of humor (although no one except me was laughing in the porn theater!). The scene where he demonstrates their main product, Forever Hard, is soooo funny! He actually stands on the guys cock after applying the balm, to show how rigid your cock becomes. Gosh, I wish I could find that one. All I know is that it was produced by P.M. Productions, who also put out some great Jack Wrangler films. There's another scene where one of two lovers just can't seem to cum, and the salesman has them make love in front of him so he can analyze the problem. As they are fucking away, he takes out a bottle-rocket like aparatus, sticks it up the guy's ass, and of course, they cum like mad! George Payne (you may remember him from such films as Kiss Today Goodbye,Centurians of Rome, and Navy Blue ) is apparently in a "cameo", although I can't remember the scene.

Monday, August 13, 2001

got an email entitled "HUH" regarding the 4-1/2 foot rule mentioned previously. so, here's my somewhat more awake explanation:

"yeah, i thought later i should explain that, or at least link to when i last mentioned it. you know, you're in the backroom (well, of course YOU wouldnt be) but ONE is in the backroom, and you see a good freind, and you must stay at least 4-1/2 feet away. I saw several friends last night, and there was no way to stay, and still abide by the rule. Of course, if you are already involved in some activity, it is up to the others to abide by the rule, you are not obliged to stop what you are doing."
well, i tried not go out this week. So, 2 nights out of seven is certainly better than 6 out of 7. And I didnt drink alcohol. But, a little weed and a pint of White Out last night is still taking it's toll on my body, and memory. Someone's hand in my jockstrap........ my mouth on someone's balls........ that 4-1/2 foot rule making it difficult, if not impossible to really do much, and that's all I can remember..........

Sunday, August 12, 2001

SECRETS - new Human League. single All I Ever Wanted is good, Love Me Madly is fantastic!

"You know you're making me frantic, is this supposed to be romantic?"

I knew not to go to The Phoenix. I hadn't been to a bar all week, and it's been a good week, sex-wise (see below). And I rarely go out on Saturdays anyway. But my pal and his bf took me out to dinner, and wanted a drink, so I agreed to go. Within 10 minutes of being there I spotted the most-recent-X. I immediately got anxious, my heart beating faster, I felt trapped. I stayed in my little corner, allowing my pals to surround me, but eventually he caught me eye, we nodded/smiled an aknowledgement. To leave, or even go to the bathroom, I'd have to pass him, which would mean engaging in some lame conversation which I was in no mood for. I hate being forced into fake pleasantries, when I still feel so much anger, and resentment, and loneliness, and yes, craving. Eventually, he came over, said "hey" and kissed me on the cheek. After introducing him to the pals, and him asking me 3 times "what's up?" he made excuses about needing his sleep, and left (odd for him it was only around 11:30). Gosh, it's been 2fuckingyears! How can he so thoroughly change my mood, and make me think of nothing but him by just that simple peck on the cheek, the brief chance to smell him again, inhaling his wonderful mix of smoke, sweat, and hairiness? After he left, I was just stunned, unable to think or carry on a conversation. I tried some weed with Chris, to loosen me up again, but it just made me more insular, introspective, so I went home, attempted to do some dishes, and thought of nothing but the boy-who-broke-my-heart. It's been weeks since I had these thoughts, and I hadn't consciously realized why I had been in a better mood lately............

an hour or two of Lifetime television got me tired enough to go to bed for some restless sleep. when will this end?

Saturday, August 11, 2001

too sleepy to think

Well, since the Roger pic (below, somewhere) went over so well, I thought I'd share another bikeboy pic. Seems as soon as I said I'd been getting "some" lately on this page, I stopped getting "any" (oh, wait, its only been 36 hours!) - well, regardless, entertain yourselves with some pages I've perused recently.
  • amigothornot
  • HOW TO: Rim
  • radical Penectomy
  • blowjob pillow
  • hairymusclebears
  • hanky code
  • ball stretcher
  • Big Jim
  • Friday, August 10, 2001

    If i don't count Sunday, I've had really good sex 3 times this week! Gosh, maybe staying out of the bars does more for me that just saving a few bucks. The first 2 were "just" sexdates.

    Monday night's guy, we had met the previous week at the Anthology Archives for the showing of Arch Brown's The Night Before. This is the guy who took a bunch of pics - some are ok, some not too flattering (prooving once again, you ought not take a pic of yourself getting blown, pointing the camera down towards your partner will ALWAYS make you look fat!)

    Wednesday was a 2nd sexdate with a very nice Frenchman - (is that an oxymoron, or am I the moron saying that?). We met some weeks back on line, he came here, we had a real nice time. This time I rode my bike UPTOWN (22nd and Park Ave) to his place. Gosh, he's handsome, hairy, nicely muscled but not overdone........and very very tactile. Very nice hands, light touch. We spent a lot of time "after" just talking, touching, lightly kissing. He seemed sorta sad that I left, although he didn't say so. We didn't explicity say "let's do it again" but it would be nice, maybe even a stay-over.

    Last night was a "real date" - dinner and all. We came back here, I loaded a few tunes on Winamp, and we hugged, and kissed, and joked and giggled - shit like that for awhile. Eventually I dragged him in the other room, loaded the Vespertine disc in the player, and buried my face in this hairy cute boy. But gosh, does my body ache today! I've been having back and neck problems the past few weeks, due to my internet addiction and basic lack of exercise. So, last night, as yummy as it was, doing the old lying-on-my-back, perched-on-my-elbows, slurping-on-his-balls as he squatted over me might not have been the best idea (well, it was the best idea, but you know what I mean!) - But he's got the softest body hair, I just couldn't keep my hands, or mouth, off him!

    But, alas, he had to go home to Brooklyn - work in the morning, and more importantly, a dog to take care of. He has a share out on Long Island somewhere, but mentioned he may stay in the city for the weekend...... (hmmmm!) After he left, I looked at a few web pages, saw how late it was (time flies......) and went back into the bedroom, put Vespertine back on, opened the blinds to see the beautiful golden half-moon was just peeking over the building next door, lighting up my bed. So, I just snuggled up in the spot where no doubt dozens of his bodyhairs had fallen, and had those nice thoughts you have after a great night............

    Thursday, August 09, 2001

    Today, I'm Diana Ross in Mahogany

    Hmmmm, after reading this article (via Jocko - thanks) this morning, I've learned that I am a straight-acting straight guy. Or is that a straight-acting gay guy? Um, well, anyway, fortunately, by losing some weight and adding little details to my wardrobe, I'll be able to pass for gay when it is to my advantage. Phewwww.

    But seriously, waking up and thinking "Today, I'm Diana Ross in Mahogany" is progress, eh?

    Wednesday, August 08, 2001

    nope, not gonna use some dopey title like "Roger and Me"

    Lately, I've been very happy to see that my non-blog pages have been getting a fair amount of "hits" (thanks Google!)- My pornology,video collection,video wish list,and my Directors pages have been getting some attention - plus a bunch of emails asking for help identifying a porn star, or locating a video, that sort of thing. That's what I was envisioning for my website - a place to look for some of the gay porn stuff from the 70's thru the mid 80's, but not one of those adult video sales sights with pop-ups, inaccurate info (taken straight off the vid boxes), and well, all that str8 porn crap that creeps me out! I also hope to find more gay porn star shrines (not easy to find, without adult check and pop-ups!) - so if you have one, or know of one, let me know.

    I got an interesting email the other day, from a guy who says I never answered his first email - he may be right, sometimes I simply forget, or sometimes, if the "subject" looks like one of those Yahoo spam mailings, I simply delete without opening. Anyway, he mentioned seeing my Wish List and that he might have a few of the movies I was looking for, with HIM in them, as well as asking me my advice on selling "used" underwear. I emailed back that there's not much money in the sales bit, and I didn't know who he was, so I couldn't say if I wanted videos. Writing back, he says he's Roger, the Roger (you know, discovered by Blueboy magazine , sexpartner of Jack Wrangler and Bruno). The guy also included pics (scans of video boxes) which seemed strange, since you'd think he'd have his own pics of himself. But the worse part is that I'm supposed to write him back, and I really don't want to be the one to tell him that he died in a car accident years ago!
    my scheduled sexdate for Monday night went pretty much as scheduled. He stopped at one point at took out his

    digital camera.

    later, he served cake

    Tuesday, August 07, 2001

    After attempting to buy/find the new BJORK single earlier today, I gave up out in this heat. So, I've been spending the day looking at some porn videos I've been meaning to post on eBay. Not satisfied with just doing the old "here they are, buy them" since they are compilation tapes, (called New York's Most Wanted for absofuckinlutely no reason whatsoever!), I'm viewing them to see if I recognize actors, directors, original scene, etc. . I've already spotted Daniel Holt, Scorpio, Keith Ardent, and a great clip from Joe Gage's In the Name of Leather and another from Francis Ellie's fun Michael, Angelo, and David.

    Gosh, I remember when the gay porn industry was getting a lot of heat about unsafe sex, profiting from sex but not encouraging safe sex in the movies or "giving back" to the community. Yup, most of them were a-holes, indeed. But there were quite a few performers who did try, like Bruno and Al Parker working in Ward 5B of San Franciso General Hospital, along side Richard Locke who came out of retirement to do live safe sex shows, as well as lectures and massage therapy in the mid 80's. Who can forget that amazing rim job by Al Parker in 1988's Turbo Charge , where he sexily unrolls Saran Wrap onto Justin Cade's ass before burying his face in there. Quite sick at the time, and after having lost his lover, Eric Stryker appeared in the PBS documentary, It Starts With A in 1987, not long before he died.

    Can't tell you where I was going with this ... but yeah, I've seen ahelluva lotta porn, and I totally objectified these guys on the big screen, and then on my T.V. set, but I still think how they helped make me feel ok, good, in fact, to be queer, back when I was too young for the bars, but old enough to get into that dark Bijou Theatre on Wells Street in Chicago, sit back, and wonder if I could ever find a guy like Jack Wrangler, or be a guy like Jack Wrangler.....
    to do list:

  • buy Hidden Place single
  • pay bills (damn rent due again!)
  • clean this pig sty!
  • DON'T blog about upcoming date, since that always always jinxes it!

    i'm so close to tearS
    and so close to
    simply calling you up
    and simply suggesting

    we go to that hidden place

  • Monday, August 06, 2001

    This is the noise that keeps me awake
    My head explodes and my body aches

    I am very very very excited about the new (did I say very excited?) GARBAGE single, androgyny. Too bad it's not out until the end of September. Version 2.0 was great, of course. Alot of memories are associated with that album, because I purchased the first single, Push It to give to my boyfriend (who dumped me that first time before I was able to give him the disc, so I mailed it with a concise, yet suitably pathetic, note). The Boom Boom Satellites Mix is perfect for blasting real loud, and crying uncontrollably - I strongly recommend it. Nearly every song on the album sounds like they wrote it just for me, especially the Pretenders homage, Special (and the Brothers In Rhthym Mix that really annoyed the hell out of my neighbors for several months after the 2nd Breakup) yeah, he actually broke my heart 3 times.... you'd think i couldn't go a whole blogging week without mentioning that!

    Meanwhile, no reason to leave the apartment today, except to check mail and confirm that it's way way too hot to be out there. Last night was fun, a bit too much to explain, since I am still comtemplating the MEANING of it all (yeah, I'm still naive enough to think sex with strangers has MEANING). And tonight, I have a sexdate lined up; but at least we have already met in person, and he lives not too far, so I anticipate it should be fun.

    Sunday, August 05, 2001

    just 2 minutes ago I got an email from a pal in Kansas, mentioning a CD he's burning for me, and he casually mentions a few of the trax going on the disc. Now I must give some serious re-consideration into my late-night dope-smoking, as I had completely forgotten that one of the songs Mike mentioned was playing Thursday night, as I was flirting with this cute man. When The Slits' FANTASTIC version of I Heard It Through The Grapevine began playing, I made my interest in the boy abundantly clear by "mock drumming" all over his body during the whole fuckin' song, while mumbling something in his ears about how great my goatee would feel on his balls. Within a few minutes, we were on my bicycle, heading back to my apartment.

    Oh and I'm just about to lose my mind.
    hot and humid here. Last night watched Gone with the Wind with 2 pals, but then I couldn't sleep. So, I watched a newly acquired copy of Roger Earl's 1977 (or is it 1975?) S/M film Born To Raise Hell. Very interesting, I must say. Not as intense as I had feared, but fascinating, nonetheless. Not much sex per se, but lots of smacking around, bondage, some w/s, etc. And while there were a few things I tittered at, (like the brief moment when one leather Daddy was riding his slave, sitting in a saddle atop the slave!), I must admit it held my attention without once resorting to the fastforward button.

    Meanwhile, I did manage to dig up this pic of me from the fall of 1982.

    pic I took last week of a "visitor"from a couple weeks back

    Saturday, August 04, 2001

    woke up to the sounds of LOUD SALSA. apparently, there's a street fair on my block today. Just came from down there, it's failry lame...... each building is blasting their own favorite tunes, a few people have BBQ's going, and kids are running around in sprinkers, half naked, while cops hang out on the corner.

    my pal MARK just called for us to go to breakfast. Last time I mentioned him here, he objected to me calling him "a fag" (yeah, i know, "But ya are, Blanche!") So, off to Kate's.
    garbage trucks and tourists

    ahhhh, New York in August! I should know better than to go out on a Weekend night, especially in August, but I couldn't sleep. So, around 2:30, I hopped in the shower (why, I don't know, i was heading to a sweaty, cigarette smoke stinky local watering hole), hopped on the bike, and spent enough time to chat with an old roommate, drink 2 beers, and salivate over about 6 different guys (none of whom returnded the favor). So, only moments before those deadly lights went on, I escaped, rode my bike for about 15 minutes to get some much needed exercise, then got a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Man it stinks out there! And the stumbing drunks, what a sight, trying to wave down cabs while smooching with whoever they just met 5 minutes ago (although, one of them yelled out that I was a sexy biker!). So, grocery store, grabbed some Urban Jumble, guaranteed to make the hangover real, real painful - chocolate ice cream mixed with coconut icecream, plus white and dark chocolate chunks, pecans, and roasted almonds.

    Friday, August 03, 2001

    The music is slowly coming back to me: Human League's The Things That Dreams Are Made Of; Peaches' Dittle My Skittle; White Stripes' I Think I Smell a Rat; Yoko Ono's Walking On Thin Ice (my pals were arguing over whether it was Nina Hagen)
    Like fun and money and food and love
    And things you never thought of

    These are the things
    These are the things
    The things that dreams are made of

    New York, ice cream, TV, travel, good times
    Norman Wisdom, Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee, good times

    (Repeat chorus three times and fade)
    i think this is where i talk about the guy who I was supposed to have a "date" with, who couldn't even remember who I was when I called to confirm. Sort of an ego-buster, eh? But, having hit the low part of the day early in the evening, when I did go out last night at 2am, I wound up having a nice time. My "new friend" left at 6:30 this morning, poor thing had some sort of board meeting, or whatever it is that working people do on Friday mornings..... I remember some great music, lots of people I hadn't seen in awhile, and my "new friend" is, in fact, not so new. I've known him for many years, more-or-less, as a bar-buddy. We're connected in several ways, each having a closer friend who is the connection - most notably, my most recent ex is an ex of his. Also, he dated a good friend of mine's ex, and I think he dated, briefly, an exfriend of mine, many years ago. So last night, we didn't mention any of that, even having to reintroduce ourselves to each other. (we had been chatting quite a bit before one of us admitted to forgetting the other's name, but neither could remember).

    I mentioned that the last time I saw him was 2 years ago, in the same bar, and I was hitting on him. This was my half-assed way of hitting on him again - the old "gee you turned me down way back when" trick, to see if he had any interest. While there was much light body touching and whispered "I love this song"'s, not until a pal of mine offered to buy us drinks, and "new friend" said he'd simply share my Rolling Rock, did I realize I was "in"

    Being a typical male, I have no new lines, or new approaches, so when he said "wanna get out of here" and we got to the sidewalk, of course I used the same old line as I was unlocking my bike "Can I ride you home?" He laughed nervously, but with a big smile, so he got on the seat, and somehow I dodged the cabs and potholes, getting us home quickly but safely, and soon we were making out. Great kisser, much better than I had anticipated, and as I started to check out under his shirt, I found a nice surprise. Hairy mutherfucker! I mean HAIRY MUTHERFUCKER!, including his back and shoulders, and he smelled great, intoxicating, even! I won't go into details about the sex (who cares about that, anyway?) but after quite a bit of wrestling around on the futon, we collapsed, and it seemed like we were gonna snuggle up and catch some sleep. Here is the dangerous part.... he felt real good sleeping right there, arms wrapped around me, snoring lightly, head tucked in my neck, the smell of sweat, and hair, and tobacco, making me a little higher than I already was.....

    When he got up to leave, he did it slowly, with some light body carresses, and some kisses, and we both were still a bit drunk (we had left the Cock only 3 hours prior), and as I stood in the hallway with him, me still naked, he grabbed me one last time, giggled and said "call me" and fished out a card, leaving it on the table. Gosh, I don't want to think about the complications of all those connections we share, just want to have that warm fuzzy body in my bed again... we'll see.

    Thursday, August 02, 2001

    Dread Love

    I think I can trace it back to Atlanta, 1982. When dance music for me became more than just punk and new wave. I was going to college in Mobile, Ala, and a good pal had invited me to spend Thanksgiving break with him and his "cool" sister in Atlanta. When we got to Atlanta, I discovered that she was "cool" to Pete because she had a gay roommate, was a fag hag herself, and while Pete was str8, he knew that I could use a break with some "cool" folks, as our campus had very, very few out gay folks. Pete was affectionately known as Peter Tosh, his favorite person in the whole world. Pete was blond, from D.C., very low-key and kept to himself, smoked lots of dope, and listened to nothing but reggae (although he tolerated my taste for new wave and punk - esp. The Clash). 2 years younger than me, he was very protective of me all the previous semester when the "news" spread that I was queer, and so this fall term, we hung out alot. One night, they were all tired, but they insisted I go to the local gay club, it was within walking distance. Haven't the foggiest idea the name, or if it's still around. It looked and sounded typical: lit up dance floor, flashing lights, over-dressed guys, and annoying thumpy screaming-female-vocal disco music. But I grabbed a drink, and headed upstairs to a sort of cat-walk/balcony view of the dance floor.

    Up there, across the way from me, was a tall, handsome man, who seemed to be eyeing me. He had long, very curly, just past the shoulders beautiful brown hair. I was surprised I found him attractive - I mean, he had a great, strong face, and a slim, nicely built body, but long hair usually turned me off. But his was amazing, not frizzy, not in one of those short-on-the side long-in-back cuts (i had one the following year, god!), but just a beautiful, think head of curly long hair. So, I stared back, and eventually, we each cracked a smile. The smiles continued, but neither of us made a move towards the other. Then, the music seemed to change, starting off with some fakey thunder noises, and some cheesey female voice-over, as people from all over the club started squealing, and rushing to the dance floor, arms waving frantically and screaming. I looked at my companion quizically, he made a vague gesture, and we both dashed to the stairs, met, and ran down the stairs together, onto the dance floor. We made a funny-looking couple, as I was still wearing my grown-out Mohawk, and of course I couldn't dance worth shit. But the dancefloor was so crowded, and everyone was so fuckin' enlivened, and the Weather Girls were belting out It's Raining Men like mad - so, dispite my inability to put one foot in front of the other properly, I let loose, and danced, and laughed, and even got a few kisses from this handsome man.

    The song seemed to last forever, but in a really good way. As it began to fade out, we were hit hard with a completely different sound, one that I had heard only once before in public, in San Francisco the previous summer. Icouldn'tfuckinbelieveit! Nina Hagen's Dread Love was blasting, and while a few people left the floor, most stayed, and continued dancing like mad......

    At some point we left the club, this guy (i have no idea his name) walked me home, and I offered to smoke a joint with him. Getting back to Pete's sister's apartment, I ran upstairs, and quietly woke Pete, to ask for some dope. He grinned as I explained I met someone, and we were gonna hang out outside. He readily handed me his baggie with papers, and I returned to curly-hair man. We only had a few hits, and began making out. This went on for awhile, and the music was still playing in my head as our crotches were grinding together, the sky was getting slightly lighter, and our hard-ons eventually exploded inside our pants. We stopped soon after that, giggled like kids, and he said he really had to get home.

    The following day, as the sister and her roommate tried drilling me for info on what my night was like, Pete was quietly happy just to see me smiling to myself all day.

    Wednesday, August 01, 2001

    don't forget, tonight at 7pm, 32 2nd ave, Anthology Archives presents The Night Before
    I was locking up my bike as the two guys walked past me, into the all-night deli. They were both bigger, muscular, short hair, tattooed arms, and these punksorta tee-shirts (Agnostic Front?). I just wanted some Chipitos, so I walked in, as as I passed the one guy getting beer out of one of the case's he looked at me, my t-shirt, then back at my face and said "What, are you some sorta fag?" Grinning, , I said "Smile when you say that, mister." He smiled, grab the back of my head, and we started making out right there in the freezer section.

    He said it again. The clerk said "that's $3.98, sir." "oh, sorry" as i pushed a twenty across the counter. Alone in the store with just the 2 Koreans clerks, "Wish You Were Here" playing on the radio, I tried calculating how much acid I did in college................