Today I'm reminded of one of the few still-cherished gifts ever given to me by an ex-girlfriend. It's a small pen and ink portrait of Sisyphus, dutifully pushing his boulder up the hill, with a sunny, carefree smile on his face.
23.4.07
25.3.07
Lament for the Day
No sooner had I begun toying with the idea of making some sort of effort to somewhat curb my severe nicotine addiction sometime in the not too distant future than those evil sons of bitches at U.S. Smokeless Tobacco come along with their luscious new Skoal Citrus Blend, a pinch of which is like one of those tangy lemon flavored Dum Dum suckers I used to get after breakfast at Denny's when I was a kid, but with a special kick, damnit.
Addendum 25.3.07: Please do note I'm about the most atypical consumer of smokeless tobacco there is. Even the apparent new dipping fad at certain gay bars in Austin, according to Dagon, is merely an uptick in patronage by closet-ish country queers from surrounding areas.
Addendum 25.3.07: Please do note I'm about the most atypical consumer of smokeless tobacco there is. Even the apparent new dipping fad at certain gay bars in Austin, according to Dagon, is merely an uptick in patronage by closet-ish country queers from surrounding areas.
Note to Self
Even the sickest BMX on the planet gets you zero respect in the world of SUVs, so in the interest of not being maimed or killed, please, from now on, keep the damn bird in its cage.
21.3.07
Need Endorphins
Day two of complete rest following 40 miles of excruciating non-leisurely* running in one week finds me in a miserable state of withdrawal—fidgeting, pacing, unable to focus on anything (besides blogging) for more than about two minutes. It sucks so bad I'm even thinking perhaps I should finally just stop all this madness—all this insufferable recuperation between workouts, I mean.
*I especially scorn the idea of a "target zone". My own target is simply to push 200 bpm for as long as I possibly can.
*I especially scorn the idea of a "target zone". My own target is simply to push 200 bpm for as long as I possibly can.
15.3.07
25.2.07
Polarity
Mine is completely fucked right now. One moment I'm simply numb, resigned to the utter pointlessness of it all, then suddenly I'm in a transcendent state of awe, marvelling at the impossible odds I've overcome to somehow materialize from the vast firmament in a sentient form capable of embracing the utter pointlessness of it all—back and forth, two or three times a day.
There's no way to convey how unnerving this is to someone who's never experienced it, but trust me, it is. Still I've long had a tendency to go through such phases in late winter or early spring, and so I know it's unlikely to last more than a few weeks.
I'm sure I'll be a-ok.
Addendum 26.2.07: Yes, I am "bipolar". I suppose there's no point being skittish about it seeing as the reader who happened to ask freely acknowledges being a methadone addict.
There's no way to convey how unnerving this is to someone who's never experienced it, but trust me, it is. Still I've long had a tendency to go through such phases in late winter or early spring, and so I know it's unlikely to last more than a few weeks.
I'm sure I'll be a-ok.
Addendum 26.2.07: Yes, I am "bipolar". I suppose there's no point being skittish about it seeing as the reader who happened to ask freely acknowledges being a methadone addict.
23.2.07
21.2.07
Feel the Heat
Earlier I was thinking about my favorite scene from Boogie Nights, and wondering if I shouldn't go ahead and buy the soundtrack. This in turn got me thinking perhaps I should move to L.A. and just do porn for the next twenty years—for all of about two seconds, that is, until I considered my qualifications, or rather disqualifications, and totally cracked up at the irony.
20.2.07
18.2.07
Dry Factual Account
The time I was served at least half a dozen drinks at a bar on Bourbon Street after declining to provide proof of age and explaining to the bartender that I was in fact underage:
I sat there whining. I'd been on a crowded bus for ten hours and I simply wanted a drink. I wasn't there to make trouble. But the bitch began losing her temper. She yelled over at the enormously fat, semi-conscious owner, "Hey, this 19 year-old kid's tryin' to get served and he won't fuckin' leave!" To which the owner, after mumbling to himself for several seconds, suddenly shot back, "If he's old enough to die for his country, he's damn well old enough to sit at my bar and drink! Serve the young man!"
I sat there whining. I'd been on a crowded bus for ten hours and I simply wanted a drink. I wasn't there to make trouble. But the bitch began losing her temper. She yelled over at the enormously fat, semi-conscious owner, "Hey, this 19 year-old kid's tryin' to get served and he won't fuckin' leave!" To which the owner, after mumbling to himself for several seconds, suddenly shot back, "If he's old enough to die for his country, he's damn well old enough to sit at my bar and drink! Serve the young man!"
17.2.07
Note to Reader
I'm sorry it's all become so moronically smutty. I promise I'll move on to some more redeeming theme as soon as I feel like it.
The Galano Files 3
If you begin to feel concerned about the growing intensity of your friendship with some other male, you should sit him down and let him know you no longer wish for the two of you to spend so much time together without usually having hot chicks around.
16.2.07
Dry Factual Account
The one time I've ever to my knowledge been sexually aroused by another male:
I was in a back alley mini-super in Cabo picking up a few refreshments after a long day hiking and swimming. When I got through the checkout this seriously hot girl took out her wallet and paid the cashier, then walked off without saying a word. Needless to say I followed her and we did talk.
A few hours later I met her at the bar where she worked. As soon as we sat down she very casually mentioned she was a transexual prostitute, and I remember finding it odd how very casually I took this. Then she started buying me shots.
About an hour after that I was totally drunk with this delightful little thing draped all over me, and by then I could no longer have given a fuck about her karyotype. So we did, uh, kiss for a while, then she went to go make some money and I went back to my room and passed out.
(I think her name was April.)
I was in a back alley mini-super in Cabo picking up a few refreshments after a long day hiking and swimming. When I got through the checkout this seriously hot girl took out her wallet and paid the cashier, then walked off without saying a word. Needless to say I followed her and we did talk.
A few hours later I met her at the bar where she worked. As soon as we sat down she very casually mentioned she was a transexual prostitute, and I remember finding it odd how very casually I took this. Then she started buying me shots.
About an hour after that I was totally drunk with this delightful little thing draped all over me, and by then I could no longer have given a fuck about her karyotype. So we did, uh, kiss for a while, then she went to go make some money and I went back to my room and passed out.
(I think her name was April.)
13.2.07
The Galano Files 2
If ever you find yourself at a small, all male social gathering where the only available smoking paraphernalia bears more than a slight resemblance to a massive male erection, it's alright to toke up as long as you repeatedly express your extreme displeasure with the experience—you know, so your friends won't get the wrong idea and try any funny stuff.
But if somehow, despite your efforts, your friends get the impression you totally love sucking that cock, or if one even shows you, in explicit detail, how much he loves sucking it, well, you've no choice but to have a total fucking cow and accuse them all of being devious sexual predators who've clearly conspired to get you stoned out of your mind and forcibly, repeatedly soddomize you, perhaps even using the offending item itself.
(Again, so they won't get the wrong idea.)
But if somehow, despite your efforts, your friends get the impression you totally love sucking that cock, or if one even shows you, in explicit detail, how much he loves sucking it, well, you've no choice but to have a total fucking cow and accuse them all of being devious sexual predators who've clearly conspired to get you stoned out of your mind and forcibly, repeatedly soddomize you, perhaps even using the offending item itself.
(Again, so they won't get the wrong idea.)
9.2.07
Word of the Day
het∙er∙o∙fag∙go∙try
[het-uh-roh-fag-uh-tree]
-noun Total wussiness over some truly exquisite female (not infrequently involving wistful thoughts of baby names), to which a typical über-heterosexual male will claim total immunity—whenever he's not in fact making a total wuss of himself over some truly exquisite female.
[het-uh-roh-fag-uh-tree]
-noun Total wussiness over some truly exquisite female (not infrequently involving wistful thoughts of baby names), to which a typical über-heterosexual male will claim total immunity—whenever he's not in fact making a total wuss of himself over some truly exquisite female.
8.2.07
7.2.07
The Galano Files 1
Few things are more important in life than knowing when to say, "The massage is over."
2.2.07
Epiphany of the Day
In closing a recent eBay sale, I decided the following:
Someday, God willing, I will be one half of a couple so disgustingly close we not only have a joint checking account, but also a joint email account.
Someday, God willing, I will be one half of a couple so disgustingly close we not only have a joint checking account, but also a joint email account.