in which life is mundane and happy....

I don't really have much to say for myself that doesn't seem too self-aggrandizing.  Life has been going fairly well for me.  Xmas, new years and this following week have been productive, drunken, fun, and sex-laden.  In a word: perfect.

I still adore my job and the opportunities it affords me.  There are mundane details that I concern myself with on a daily basis, because 'hey, its my job!'.  All in all though, I'm fairly content, the chaos of my living situation and the usual parade of couch-crashing bitches aside.

This post is more than a mite banal, but hey, you were warned in the title, bub.

7:08 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

in which I make random assertions...

Whoever runs wikipedia should run the world. 

Penguins are losing habitat and population every day.  I say fuck 'em.  First of all they smell something awful, and more importantly I don't ever remember a penguin helping me out of a jam.  If it was one of those rescue dogs that carry a container of booze on their collar, that'd be a different story.  Oh, and I would like to save koala bears and monkeys too.

Sake and soy are both delicious.

7:48 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

in which life gets a mite sweeter every day....

Lately I've been too distracted by my new fabulous gig, to be distracted by the men that live on the periphery of my life.  This is a positive thing for me.  It's reduced the amount of distraction and hurt.  Emo no more I say!  In regular fashion I've been on a few utterly forgetable dates in recent weeks, but have not assigned any type of emotional attachment to them.  The judeo-christian holiday season doesn't exactly curb the asocial impulse this time of year.  The only things I feel like doing during this december holiday season are my job, getting smashed with friends, sleeping with the usual suspects, and going home to curl up with a nice Richard Dawkins book. 

I feel more like myself than I have in years.  It's as though there's a remotely socially healthy ego surfacing after all the garbage I went through after Jason killed himself seven years ago.

Don't hold your breath kids, I'm still not a wholely functioning member of Bobo society, so no worries there.  Be that as it may, I love my new job and shirking some of my old social ties has turned out to be beneficial. 

Blah blah blah.. Sure you're not gay, kid.  You didn't exactly look like the paragon of Texan breeders with my dick up your ass.  Good luck to you sir, cuz hell with high water, I'm going to have the time of your life regardless.

7:50 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

in which i find my happy place....

Life is good. 

Chastising construction crews is fun.
Living on a beach is fun.
Running a bar is fun.
Being single in the virgin islands is fun.
Bottles of Jagermeister are fun.
Owning a piece of shit convertible is fun.
FUPA leaving island was fun.
Leaving Duffy's is fun.
Drunken two mile walks in the middle of the night are fun.
Relatedly, falling into bushes is fun.
Driving cars off of cliffs is fun.
Sex on the beach [not the horrid beverage, but the act] is fun, aside from the sand.
Stupid flash games involving jumping bears and bunnies with spears are fun.

You, you may be fun, but that all depends on your attitude, sport.

4:01 AM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

in which i sign a contract.....

It's official kids.  I've put my notice into Duffy's and signed a contract to manage a bar at the upcoming Yacht Havent Grande in downtown St. Thomas.  It is farther away from where I live @ Sapphire Beach, but there are several benefits: mo' money, mo'  vacay, and benefits.  Plus I may find a mega-yacht owning husband as its a waterfront bar next to 50 megayacht slips.

3:48 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

in which i laugh...
Current mood: chipper

Life is absurd, or some some big talk frenchy said.

I, for one, agree.

I'm staring at the myspace profile of the kid that wrecked my already decimated heart, what was it [forgive me kids, i've done and drank a bottle of red zin already] ah, yes, seven years ago now. 

Lindsay, if you read this, I'm referring to fatty the vampire slayer. Pay attention now, because this next bit is directed at you.

As fairy godmother of my first real relationship [read:alec], you must acknowledge that since whether or not your aware of this, I've since developed a hobby of fucking the fatties.  Not that alec was overweight when he and I started dating, but he had just kicked a serious meth habit, so I think we all knew where that was going.  In fact, one could most safely call it a habit at this juncture.  There's many names I could rattle off at this point as evidence of this, but I assume that anyone reading this knows me and just agrees out of hand. 

Regardless... Fatty the Vampire Slayer [henceforth:FVS] is my root, to steal a phrase from 'But I'm a Cheerleader', which I still maintain is the best work Chloe Sevigny has done other than being hacked up by Christian Bale in the film adaptation of Brett Easton Ellis' 'American Psycho'.  And its not just the physial fat either.  No, no, no.  I feed off of the psychology.  FVS made me hot for the downwardly mobile [alec need not apply in this case, but it holds true for the rest], psychologically insecure men with smaller dicks [because hey! they're fat] with no sense of self or place in the world.  I suppouse it speaks to my own weak nature that I seek people unable to cope with themselves just so I can exploit them.  Or I just like fat stupid guys.

I'm a chubby chaser kids.
I want something to grab on to.
Fuck the whole country's mass-media formulated idea of gay rights.  I don't give a toss about marriage.  Durable power of attorney would be nice, I suppouse, but I'm not really stressing about it.  Happy as I am about the outcome and consequences of the recent US midterm elections, those state gay marriage bans go right on through in every state they're proposed.  Which is ok, but it just makes me think that people have lost the point.  It took six years of utter disaster in the international arena for the US to put the democrats in some position to fight back, but there was still some need to send a message across many states saying 'hey, easy on the gay thing, eh?' As if we didn't have more pressing national problems. But anyways....

Screw the politics.
My question for all of you kids, the people that know me, is where exactly does this put me? Does the fondess for booze, facial hair, and body fat make me a 'bear'?
I don't really equate with a lot of bear culture, but it seems its really the only gay male subculture left with its own identity that hasn't already been co-opted by the larger social system.
Does this doom me to closeted fags constantly concerned about the local perception of their own masculinity or can I resonably expect to find my own st. thomas lumberjack?
Ludicrous, eh?
And so, I laugh.

Absurd.

6:54 PM - 3 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment

in which i find myself still caught in love....

By all rights I should find myself finished with emotions, but when my favorite coworker/bartender/fuckbuddy declares himself finished with our mutual job and smashes a bottle of miller light into my hand with his beer blade and promises me to trip together on our next mutual day off, I can't help but swoon.

I like to marvel at the random beauty of the simple village fatty.

This man shall be the death of me.

In other news... If Jesus invented a new form of Kung Fu, would we really call it Judo?

9:16 PM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

in which I am "maudlin and full of self pity", I am magnificient [to paraphrase addison dewitt]
Current mood: ebullient

I've been having second thoughts over whether or not I should take my fabulous new job. In rare anal retentive fashion, I have made a list.

Cons:
The commute will suck.
Working in a bar surrounded by uber fashionable, coteur stores surrounding the building, with the housing projects literally across the street will be a mite wierd.  If you've known me for any goodly length of time you'll understand this is more than slightly reminiscent of the time i spent computer programming in san fran for the democratic party, and the subsequent issues I had with that.
Opening a bar as a gm, especially at the start of season means working crazy assed hours.

Pros:
It's a good career move.
The money and benefits package are great.
Who's the boss? [I always thought it was samantha, but never tony danza.]
I would have to pour myself into work and professional development, rather than party, have a blast, and get wrapped up in my own issues [read: try to make relationships work when they don't have a fucking chance].
I won't work at Duffy's anymore, which means I won't have to see cheesecake on a daily basis.

The decision will ultimately be made on a gut feeling, so whatever.

In more fashionable news, I spent the night at penguin's last night. The sex was fine as usual, and I slept well.  I really don't mind be the other woman.  Last night as I entered  penguin and his boyfriend's [said boyfriend was off island for a week] apartment I realized how little I wanted a live-in boyfriend.  It was shades of all the negative things about my life with alec all over again [which was one of the reasons I couldn't bring myself to live with james, and dropped him like a dog tears apart an unattended christmas ham on the dining room floor].  Domestic hell, methinks.  I'm not sure that gay men are well suited to long term monogamous relationships.  Modeling my life after some sort of judeo-christian ethic loses more and more luster with each passing year.  I can barely put up with my own bullshit, let alone that of another human being, and that's alright.  It's something I'd be willing to take on with cheesecake, but honestly he's nowhere near ready for that.  In the interim I refuse to lose track of myself,  because it is all I have.
At any rate, it was a good time.  This morning we were drinking coffee on his balcony and I was chainsmoking, as it was twelve hours since my last cigarrette, which was entirely too long.  At some point two of his neighbours walked out on their balcony and shot me dirty looks for five minutes.  It was a riot.  I'm not sure which made them the most upset: that i was chain smoking, or that i was doing it in my underwear, or that i was sleeping with their neighbour while his boyfriend was out of town.

C'est la vie.

8:36 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

in which life is still inane....

I'm listening to my favorite liz phair song.  It's a bootleg from the early 90s when she was smoking pot in her dorm room, poor and still literate.  The title is 'Black market white baby dealer'.  What's not to love?  Any song containing the line 'he brings back clean fresh white expensive babies' can't be anything but solid gold, in my humble faggy [desperately needing a new genetically compatible liver and possibly a set of lungs] opinion.

I'm ready to leave my job and it looks like I may have a fabulous new one.  I don't want to give any details just yet.  I received an informal offer yesterday,  but I won't  be a merry ray of fucking sunshine until I've signed a contract. Nonetheless, the offer was quite good in terms of salary, benefits, and other desirable elements.  The opportunity to run my own bar at the premier marina in the carribbean at the age of 24 is a huge deal. 

 Cheesecake and I have been on the outs for quite some time.  There's been a lenghty period where he refused to even speak to me unless socially obligated.  It's been better the past two weeks, but still ugly.  It sucks to love a friend when you know they're hurting and can't do anything to comfort them because their internalized knee jerk reaction is to blame you as the source of their pain even though they know better but haven't moved to the stage of acceptance that they can have a conversation with you about it without resorting to hysterics. Granted, I knew better than to put myself in this position.

Typical.

Meanwhile, the detroit tigers look to be headed to the world series.

11:36 PM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

in which even my one night stands get fed up after four hours....

I just finished having sex with a nice boy. He stormed out after post-coital conversation turned to the topic of religion.  Said boy mentioned earlier this evening being a member of his high-school debate club.  That should've been enough of a sign for me to steer clear of religious topics.

Whoops.

Apparently Don is a gnostic christian from oklahoma. Nice kid.  He seemed to actually know a thing or two about the history of early christianity/the jesus movement.  So, foolishly, I had a conversation and pressed for specifics.  Mein Herr seemed to think of this as verboten.  Long story short, the guy freaked out and stormed off in a self-righteous rage, despite my best efforts to explain that i wasn't attacking his religious beliefs, but that I was trying to have a decent conversation of which I had deemed him capable.  It seems that if you ask people what they know about the historical basis of their religion they get all tetchy.

So, if afforementioned boy happens to read this....
1.) Sorry dude, I wasn't trying to piss you off.  Honestly.
2.) The historical references you were looking for... Well, I suggest you try looking at wikipedia to learn more about gnosticism.  Topics you might be interested in include: Josephus Flavius, Philo Of Alexandria, the history of the 2nd temple period, the essenes, rabbi akiva, etc.
3.) Drunken insecurity in the face of intellectual conversation is not sexy.  If I believed you weren't capable of carrying on a decent conversation, I wouldn't have started one. For that, I thank you. The next time I sleep with someone we'll just watch a movie between sex acts rather than talking. 

12:06 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment