Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man
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An omnium gatherum entry. Startled me to discover how long Iíd been silent.
Been a stretch since I made an entry, even longer since Iíve written about anything other than my foot. That one day Iíll have nothing that I want to say worries me from time to time. Almost every enthusiasm Iíve had has surprised me by waning or vanishing. Journal writing has been fun and even good for me; Iíd miss it.
My leg and foot are healing steadily. Still canít wear my boots without irritation but Iím back at the bookshop again. While I half wish my time away from work had been more enjoyable thereís more pleasure than Iíd expect in working again. Except when facing a dispiritingly valueless and uninteresting stack of books to price and catalog.
Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man was the funniest title we sold today. Maybe the author should be drummed out of the Queer Guild for revealing the secrets of proper cock sucking. That having a cock gives us better craft in pleasing one is a familiar bit of folklore. That a woman might feel a need to buy the book says she hasnít mastered the real secret: asking.
The Holy Bible in Kwikscan : The Greatest Breakthrough in 400 Years of Reading was the silliest book I bought today. It promises to enable the reader to ďRead 65% Faster! Remember 38.4% More!Ē (The decimal place reveals the hand of mail order copywriter.). The gimmick? Select phrases are bolded. You are only to read those. Obviously skipping the majority of the text will speed up anybodyís reading.
We sold the two copies I got within an hour of cataloging them.
At my own pokey pace Iíve been reading myself, a few novels. They made no impression on me. When I finished Muriel Sparkís The Only Question I wasnít sure why sheíd written it. Not that it was bad. I donít think Spark can write a novel without idiosyncratic humor. I wonder what part of my brain is offline.
Charles is in Raleigh. While visiting a friend a terrible migraine hit. The accompanying nausea made him vomit his percocet. He called from an ER to tell me heíd been giving a couple of shots and wouldnít be able to come back home tonight.
Charles cut his hair this week. Now his hair hangs below his chin instead of over his shoulders. As keen as I am on long hair I have to confess his hair looks fine. Heís going blonde. Heíd been blonde but chemotherapy turned his hair brown. Right now it is mostly orangey. Some more bleach followed by the hair color and heíll have yellow hair again. Iíve always been partial to blonde boys but never had much luck with them. Probably I didnít qualify as more fun.
Most pointless endeavor: a couple of weeks ago I noticed that some bug was nibbling on my winter honeysuckle. There are for of them. Iíve been pulling off the half-eaten and dead leaves. Havenít an idea of thatíll cause a spurt of growth on the healthy limbs or if Iím wasting my time.
Skimming the New York Times I was surprised to read an article about how many people turned out to meet a Calvin Klein model. Having never heard of Travis Fimmel I Goggled to learn more. Heís certainly blessed with the best that flesh and bone can offer but it strikes me as a very Manhattan thing write about an obscurityís adoration.
Posting links to the merely odd and colorful is an internet vice but Bizarre Magazineís website is too rich in silliness to not mention.
My biggest irritation is that my PC is crashing steadily. I think my video card is failing. Canít justify buying a new one since the background buzz of my days is being hopelessly broke. So Iím selling off more of my childhood (my old comic books) hoping that I can stop writing Gordon postdated checks.
And Duchess, Charlesí dog has lost interest in her food. Iím buying her junk food to make to keep her from losing more weight.
Anne, the neighborhood crackwhore is back. A perpetual mooch sheís always too greasily friendly. Seems wisest to feign interest but I keep on walking lest Iím sucked into a conversation. I accidentally lent her $5.00 a couple of months ago. I was napping when the doorbell rang. A young woman asked to borrow $5.00. Muddy from sleep I thought it was the neighborís daughter so I gave it to her. Itíll never be repaid.
Biggest immediate annoyance: Time Warnerís web access has been largely dead while Iíve been trying to get to Live Journal and see what folks have been writing.