i read a book last night titled Lizard Club. It was about a homosaurian that had a problem with eating the boys he made love to. i was sucked in by the name dropping on the back cover, John Waters and Kenneth Anger are idols of mine. I'm not sure why I love gay men but i do, both friends and celebrities. I love them, god no, not all gay men but their stats average out higher than straight guys on my scale of love and admiration.

I've got a ticket to fly this Friday. please dear god don't let me be stuck in Georgia forever! my entire family lives there. my sister lives with my parents. my brother built his house practically in their back yard. lots of family. mawmaw lives a 5 minute walk down the road. a little ways on out you'll find various aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins and so on. we are a tribal people in northwest Georgia.

wow. I'm excited to enjoy my last few days of freedom before bitter reality sets in through day in and day out parental bitching. i'm too old for that shit. Liz and Arzu tried to get me out of it but there are some things in this life people gotta face. i wish I had a horse and I'd ride off into the bathwater.

this Saturday is big D's birthday. shit, some yuppie bitch is walking around on her cellphone. i'm in a coffee shop/retail store. i read that aloud as i typed it and she left, hahaha.
so big-D's birthday.

When I was 14 I used to sneak out of my house at 1 in the morning to hang around with big D, Slim and Beeker. I'd drink wine coolers and later the beast. Sometimes we would go to the super wal-mart and be followed around by the employees. no pano's in Adairsville. i wonder if I've written about the cow suit story on this journal. I'm sure I must have. I'll look it up.... ah hell, i can't find anything but i'll tell you it has to do with a stuck Monte Carlo and a spirit walker who was this redneck who must have been on PCP.

I'm feeling better. I can't wait to see my Mawmaw, surely you can tell by my user pic what a sweetie she is. I told her I had the luck of the Irish because I always find four-leave clovers and not to worry about me. she told me yeah, her Mama always said we were black Irish. I told that to Courtney and Courtney said the Irish were called that because they fled from the Black Famine to the States but I like to think of it in Hakim Bey terms and imagiane that I have some distant ancestors who were all about Islam on that fucked up green lil island.

Yawl go to church this mornin'?

Everything sucks. I want to be at that god damn house warming party sooooooooooooo bad although I'm skeptical if people could hang with a nocturnal one like myself. Last stripper party I went to one of my favorites was incapacitated on the stairwell by the time I arrived.

Lord knows I ain't made any friends in this city. I almost did one night. The night I got fed up with the "all ages show" Courtney got us into. I left and ended up at a girlie dancin' bar called Outlaws and some old man came up and asked me "why don't you go home where people love you?" He gave me ruby slippers and now... I've decided to go to Georgia.

Atlanta is at least as interesting as Portland, not quite as foreign to me and full of old memories but still... interesting.
All I want is a big and juicy steak. I'd fry it up with some Worcestershire sauce and butter, leave it pink in the middle. Oh and some okra, yeah and squash.

I talked to Kiah (the kinder-gardener) when I was in Brooklyn. I told her I was hungry and she told me she'd send me a plate of food. Said she'd send fish and potatoes and even a dessert of chocolate pie. It sounded great but unfortunately five-year-olds are not good at following through with the ideas they conceptualize.

and I'm off to enter another hell. At least it's a hell where all of my clothes and books are. I've been living with the same clothes all summer and losing panties along the way. In the old days I would write more about the panties but this estrip thing has grown to frightening proportions. I'll have to save some stories for when I visit Buffalo.


What's sad is I have Courtney's apartment to myself this weekend and I'm not even enjoying it. I've been depressed. Every movie I watch or book I read makes me tear up. Faulkner's Two Soldiers almost killed me. Anything that involves the disillusionment of children, I find especially upsetting. Usually media bounces right off of me but lately all that emotional shit, I've been absorbing it like a maxi pad and the illusion of pain, whether masterfully rendered or poorly, briefly becomes my own real pain..

and no, it's not PMS. I'm just crazy. It must be that I miss my vibrator. Water pressure is getting boring. maybe I just miss my space and solitude. yeah, I really miss those things. I dreamed I was being chased by these two men last night. I had to do all this ninja shit to get rid of them. Then I had to explain to Donnie and Chante what I was doing in their house watching the flat screen. and for some oddly disturbing reason Marc Bohlen was there.

The saddest part... I lost Bruce here in Portland. He was a little yellow action figure who followed me from elsewhere. I plan on making a commemorative video.

my sister-in-law, Dee, sent some photos of my nieces. talking about how damn hard it is to get a good picture of all three of them. Gracie's face in the bottem picture is my favorite.

I'm about to have a nicotine fit but there is no one around to witness it. I would like to say that I am totally angry with Liz and Arzu at this point, for dragging my ass out of North Carolina all those months ago. Adairsville is boring but at least I'd be around my family. The old ones drive me up the wall but the little one coax me back down again. Kiah, my little angel, started kindergarten this year. It's weird to sleep in a 5 years olds room (Kiah always sleeps with her mama or granny) but hell, the have movies on demand.

Ok enough

I'll try to think of something relevant rather that incessant bitching and whining.

Books

I've read three this week.
Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises
Tim Robbins, Villa Incognito
and
Dorothy Allison, Bastard out of Carolina


The Sun Also Rises was the best. pulled me in... made me like the author. Lady Brett Ashely was an awesome character who fucked all these dudes and got drunk all the time. So did everyone... get drunk.


Villa Incognito, was a fucked up fairy tale about bestiality. It was good but I like 1st person writing more.



Bastard out of Carolina, was depressing as all get out. I've read essays by Dorothy Allison that are more empowering and uplifting. This book made me tear up. It's about this kid who gets kicked (among other things) around by her step dad. She has a great crazy extended family but she's poor, called trash and... it's just fucking sad.

Well, here I am in Oregon. Still flat broke... still no job. I'm staying with Courtney. We are like a married couple. She's cheating on me with a guy with a mustache. Let's call him John Waters. I encourage her with Mr. Waters so I guess it's not cheating. I say, go and get that ass but she likes to think of it in more emotional terms.
I like a man in Brooklyn. I also don't like him and even more I'm apathetic. What kills me is his intelligence, yes, it's right smack dab in the middle of stupid reckless decisions but it's there. I meet so many idiots... l sweet, cute and good-natured idiots but boring due to bland predictability. That one was different, one of those rare good Georgians, like myself. I'll never see him again. That's my assumption.
The way I miss Buffalo is like a slap in the face. I want to come rest my head on Liz Knipe's tittys and sigh. What am I doing with my life? Sitting in a coffee shop locked out of the apartment waiting for my wife to get out of her damn baking class, not that she ever bakes in the apartment. She can't, despite the 650$ a month the oven leaks gas and is therefore scary. What is this real world? Should I have went to engineering school so this job thing would not be such an issue? Who am I kidding, I would have lost patience with that before i'd set my foot in a classroom. Still... I need to work. I want to work. Ok, I'm lying, all I want to do is travel the world and be jolly, is that to much to ask? No, I do want to work. I can't work right now. I'm to worried about finance. I need to labor and that's what really gets to me.