It's a World of Laughter ...
I met up with the boys last night (some of which couldn't wait just fiiiive more minutes to even say hello, hmpf) after a work dinner that took longer than I thought. On the cab ride cross town, I saw that dearest darling Philth had called from Atlanta.
"Hey, you know Kevin and his boyfriend are in town." Kevin is one of Philth's best friends, who I met on my first business trip to Atlanta some 5 or 6 years ago. He immediately left Georgia and moved to San Francisco.
"Well tell him to call me."
Twenty minutes later, I'm in Barrage and the phone rings. It's Kevin and they're on their way over. That Phil can work fast when she wants to.
By now Andrew and I are last men standing (apparently some people have lives apart from my drinking schedule, a concept I really don't choose to comprehend). The out-of-towners arrive. Kevin and Andrew know each other from down South and the boyfriend, Pete, is adorable. Yay.
Jesus, Bob, Is there a point to this story?
Yes, there was a dead man in the window ... no wait, that's another story.
Fast forward to a cigarette break outside (it doesn't count if they're other people's smokes), and we're talking about this and that and what brought me to Barrage on a Thursday night.
"Just seeing what kind of trouble Miss Andrew's getting into with the blog boys, but they all crapped out early."
"You have a blog?" Kevin asks. "So does Pete ... he's swimfinssf."
Who knew? And how stupid am I for never recognizing Pete's boyfriend as Philth's best friend? I guess being out of context, I never made the connection.
As I've told my mama a hundred times, it's a small world when you suck dick.
Even smaller, I suppose, when you combine that with blogging.
April 29, 2004
Hey Mr. Postman
I love blast emails from our Central Services department.
To: *NY- All Employees
Subject: FYI - reminder
The Carpenter is in today to perform various jobs around the premises - if you have any request(s), please e-mail your request to the office services department.
So sad that there's only one now. I was never a big fan of Richard ... Karen had the lovelier voice. I'd like to hear "Goodbye to Love."
Apparently, they were not amused.
And then there was this one, a couple weeks ago ...
To: *NY- All Employees
Subject: 26th floor
Ladies room on the 26th floor is now operational. Thank you.
I rarely have reason to go to the 26th floor, and not knowing the crapper was crapped out, I sent a message to a friend on that floor, noting how thrilled she must be. She quickly responded:
Look, I must have been the only person that wanted to know what happened in there. My answer was "not much". What does that mean?
It sounded to me like a George Bush phrase for "need to know" and sadly, it seems the ladies on 26 didn't need to know.
It must have been AWFUL.
April 28, 2004
Dr. M and I were discussing our plans to see Diddy in the Sun tonight, and talking about the various lackluster reviews Sean had received.
"Maybe he'll get a Tony. After all, they gave Julia Roberts an Oscar for finally not being terrible," says the jaded journalist.
"No, I'm sure Mr. DeShields will win over Mr. DeDiddy. It's not everyone who can pull off a monkey getting pulled off."
Up, Up and Away
"Oh look, somebody lost their balloons," I said to a colleague as I was standing in her office. A long, multi-colored strand of helium balloons was floating up into the sky above Sixth Avenue, somewhere right around Radio City Music Hall.
Funny how the same sight can elicit two different reactions ... and both of them film based.
We just stood there, watching them float upwards and eastwards into the clear blue sky, carried by the wind, wondering where they'd end up before they popped.
Then I thought of my Southern Californian youth and annual trips to Disneyland, where some kid would inevitably (and accidentally) let go of the string that was tied to their Mickey Mouse balloon. Off it would go, leaving a broken-hearted and empty-handed child to forget about all the magic around them and just stare through tear-filled eyes at their lost prize, getting smaller and smaller as the helium carried it off to what seemed like outer space.
And then their
bastard parents wouldn't buy them another one. "You had one and you lost it."
It's all about letting go. Hopefully whoever lost theirs today will realize that ... and then go out and buy some new ones.
Addendum: He wants to play too, providing he doesn't get shot.
April 27, 2004
A long time ago in my French Quarter days, I learned a rule: Never go home with the help.
I'm thinking it should be more of a guideline than a rule.
I eased into the New York work week with a much-needed post-travel
workout massage from Hamlet last night.
Afterwards Larry met me at The Place. We'd been there once before and it's going to become at least a semi-regular haunt. Cozy, quiet, good food — very small and kind of rustic in an old Provincetown in a way.
Last visit, I developed a petite penchant for our waiter. He was there again, compact and charming as ever, a little red-22 with really cute arms in a tight black t-shirt. His colleague last night was equally as edible; had that derriere been on the dessert cart, we might have actually ordered.
"They were adorable," I said as we waited in the rain for a cab. "Not perfect, like that boy at Bottino who I'd leave you for, but adorable nonetheless."
So yes, the guideline is don't go home with the help. But that doesn't stop the idle mind from creating a list of possibilities.
DILFs are hot, but, for this season at least, I think it's time to explore not Dads, but Waiters.
Yup, it's all about the WILF.
April 26, 2004
A Novel Idea
I need to read something — and not just the stupid, rude people in and around airplanes who clearly have never flown before.
I've got a kajillion unread books on shelves in the apartment. My usual M.O. is to go to the bookstore and buy a new one, but this time I think I'll go back to a previous purchase (unless an "other" sounds really compelling and gets the most votes) and knock it off my to-do list. Here's the shortlist:
I eagerly await your decision. In the meantime, there's always Page Six.
April 25, 2004
Can Christmas Be Far Behind?
I survived my crowded flight home in, gasp, coach, while having to sit in front of a hyperactive german tyke who would not stop kicking my seat. Praise Allah for Ambien.
I now know how the first season of 24 ended.
Alias is on tonight, and Vaughn gets tortured with no shirt on.
My friends are a riot.
We've got turkey breast roasting in the oven, the stuffing's ready and the yams are almost done.
Who says Thanksgiving's only in November?
April 23, 2004
If It's Friday, It Must be Camp Attack
There's this odd thing in the sky here in London today. I think it's called the sun.
It's been a fast and furious week of work ... not much time to play. I plan to rectify that tonight. Off to Kensington to see how the straight people live, then will no doubt be trolling through Soho later on tonight.
April 20, 2004
It's all about 24 (the first season). Yes, I know, I'm in London, the last thing I should be doing is watching DVDs, but I got hooked on the plane ride over and the hotel has the whole season on PAL.
How did I miss this?
And DON'T tell me any spoilers.
I'm still at the office, it's 7pm local time, and I
need want a pint.
April 18, 2004
She's Great, Grandma
A few of us were talking over dinner last night, comparing family trees and whatnot, and I was trying to count how many cousins I had, and how many kids they all had. I know it's quite a brood, but couldn't quite come up with a concrete number.
Well, you can't really Google such information, but you can Grandma it, so I called Bunny (yup, that's what she's been called since she was a girl), my 87 year old grandmother.
"Hey Grandma, whatcha doing?"
"Oh hi Bobby, I'm just sitting at the computer playing Freecell."
She kills me.
We exchanged the usual catch-up information, and then she informed me that from her 5 children, she has 21 grandkids, 31 great grandkids, and 1 great great grandchild. That's a lot of breeding.
She asked where I was off to next, and I told her London tonight for a week of work. Not to be outdone (ever), she's heading to Florida for a week at the end of the month before it gets too hot.
"Okay, grandma, I'll let you get back to your game. I love you, you be good."
"Well I don't have much choice, do I?"
"Sweetie, you've always got a choice."
"Let's just say I don't have much of an opportunity anymore."
Did I mention she kills me?
Karen -- take your Grandma out and let her get into some trouble.
April 16, 2004
I woke up this morning, turned on my laptop at home, and got the following message:
Operating System Not Found
I'm a little fuzzy on the good bad thing, but I think this leans toward to the bad side.
Addendum: Apparently the Operating System was either taking a nap or playing hide and seek and got bored. The next day, all was normal. Ah, the wonders of technology.
April 15, 2004
Last night's show was the dope.
Y'all missed a great show. Congratulations to everybody who read.
April 14, 2004
Closer to God
Perhaps in honor of my new look and tonight's event, I'll drop acid and order quail for dinner.
Gotta go, the radiator's singing to me.
April 13, 2004
I could write about how I got caught up on administrative things at the office and it took me for friggin' ever and yet got no real work done.
I could write how I've been spending way too much money or how I unexpectedly slept most of yesterday away.
I could write about how I'll be there tomorrow night and hope to see you all there too.
But instead, I'll pose a question. Our pal MAK got all sobberific last night.
What scene from a movie or TV show will send you straight you to tearsville?
April 12, 2004
As the World Twirls
When I lived in New Orleans, I started watching As the World Turns. It was back in the days when Douglas Marland used to write for it, and the storylines and characters were brilliant.
One day in 1985, they introduced a character named Holden. Holden Snyder. He was a farm boy, living on the Snyder farm. Out at the pond one day, he was wearing overalls with no shirt on and one strap hanging down. I had taped it that day and would later pause the tape, just leaving the image there as a piece of art, sometimes as something to look at while pleasuring myself. He was that hot.
Years later, I lived in New York and worked on different soap operas. One day, playing a reporter on ATWT, I had to stand next to him. The farm boy had married the rich heiress (isn't that always the way?) and they were involved in some big legal brouhaha. In between rehearsals and blocking and takes, we started talking. He was the nicest, most genuime person ... and even better looking in person than on TV. Something that didn't always happen. Just stunning and tall and kissable, with the most captivating eyes. I was less sure of myself back then and all I could think was "I can't believe this geeky wannabe actor is talking to the most beautiful man on daytime." I don't remember what we talked about , but I do recall that I didn't stutter, I didn't pee my pants ,and I didn't get a hard on. I just talked to this very hot, sorta famous straight guy who was actually not a prima donna. I loved him.
I loved two other people from that show as well. Lisa Brown (Iva from ATWT and Nola from GL) and Elizabeth Hubbard (Lucinda). I never got to meet Miss Brown, but Elizabeth was a hoot. A million years ago, my mom used to watch The Doctors, and she was Althea on that. Funny the thngs one remembers.
I opted for an unexpected “work at home” day today, and had the TV on in the background. Holden was on just awhile ago, still toiling away in Oakdale. I'd do him in a heartbeat.
April 11, 2004
If I were really clever, I'd dub Avril's ditty onto this, but you'll just have to watch it without.
The movie is courtesy of our gracious holiday hosts, an added bonus to their, as ever, amazing hospitality. I felt the least I could do was provide them with a big chocolate cock.
But wait, "Easter is for bunnies", you say. Never fear ... we had those as well.
April 9, 2004
Wow. Thanks for the overwhelming email response to yesterday's offer of clinical research. Who knew there were so many of you interested in science?
Since it is a holiday for some of us
Christians pagans people who get off (as it were) when the market is closed, I decided to sweeten the pot on yesterday's research and took an extended shower this morning, using my extra special fancy exfoliating body cleanser, even in the netherest of my nether regions ... easter eggs and all. All those crushed olive seeds have left me so smooth and supple ... I'm downright edible.
Happy Easter, bunnies.
April 8, 2004
I'd just written a long sole-baring post about my visit to the doctor(s) yesterday, but my machine crashed (Hey, thanks again IT for all your help) and we lost it.
It's okay, you didn't want to read me channeling my mother anyway. "Did you hear (insert relative's name here) came down with (insert disease here)?"
Bottom line -- no cholesterol check this time (apparently he felt I didn't study hard enough for the test), free antibiotics for a heretofore unknown sinus infection (I thought I had a cold), cigarettes are good for me (they burn the nerves in your sinuses so you can't feel the infection), and a nice new cream from the dermotoligst to make my feet pretty for summer.
And my lungs sounded "Congested and Wheezy." Didn't they open for Kiki and Herb back in the 80s?
Oh, and, for fun, a Cialis prescription to, um, fill out my Easter basket ... a bunny ride that Larry didn't seem to eager to hop on. So, if there's anyone out there who would like to participate in a controlled study of if/how it works on my individual body chemistry, let me know. It's all in the name of science, kids.
And don't forget, if you choose to drink this holiday weekend, remember the preferred Easter cocktail menu:
1. Rusty Nails
2. Bloody Marys
3. Rolling Rocks
Happy pagan fertility rites.
April 7, 2004
The Perils of Travel
Larry took a new job earlier this year, and he told me he'd soon be traveling to exotic locales, much as I've been doing the past several months. Apparently, the travel is starting slow.
traveling commuting to work this week in winsome Westchester. As it looked to be a late night of auditing files, his new boss thought it best they just stay the night. He called me last night from his Motel 6, none too thrilled to report that it looked like things were a mess and he'd be spending most of the spring up there, rather than in his new swanky downtown digs.
I sent him an email this morning, asking him if Day 2 was going any better and he replied "I ran this a.m. and fell in a pot hole. Then, on the way back into the hotel, I jumped as 3 deer ran in front of me! I need to get back to the city in a hurry."
I'll bet he screamed like a girl. He does that sometimes.
Poor darlin'. We all pray for his safe return.
April 5, 2004
I Need my Wick Waxed
All work and no play makes ... no, that's not it. Tons of work and too much play makes Bob a tired uncle. This weekend was not quite the bacchanalia of the one prior, but there were some late nights nevertheless. Yesterday, however, was as dry as the finest Pouilly-Fuissé.
And yet I feel like it's a terrible Tuesday. In fact, I felt like that yesterday. A little blah, a lot tired, a trifle crabby. Like I just want to sleep for a week. It's not that I've been burning my candle at both ends (naaaaah), I'm just afraid that soon there'll be no wick left to burn.
And so, tonight it's back to yoga. Nothing crazy like last year (yet). A nice moving meditation, a little chanting ... time to recenter and recharge. Tomorrow, maybe I'll run. Or lift a little weight. Or think about losing some of the weight I've put on.
I hope downward dog doesn't make me cry. Or pass out.
April 4, 2004
A Very Special Cleaning
Like others, but without the gourmet cuisine, I too am at the office today. I've slain two of my bigger dragons, giving a final proofread to a 30-page investement strategy publication and editing a shorter positioning paper. Now I'm settling into some much needed office Spring cleaning. Ironic in that it's supposed to fucking snow tonight.
Perhaps it is the spirit of cold weather, but in my first pile of
debris filing to sort through, I've just come across an unopened copy of of this. Clearly it's been sitting on my credenza under stacks of files and assorted "to read" materials since long before the New Year.
If I were half as good at cleaning up after myself as I was tidying up someone else's writing and typesetting, I'd be golden. And if I spent my money on things I actually used ... well, that's another story.
At least I'll have some fun music for the end of the year. If I can find it.
April 2, 2004
You're In Cookiejar
Those must have been some good cookies at one of the office lunch meetings today. So good in fact that they were impossible to put down. Even if you walked into the men's room to take a pee.
Yup, just walk up to the urinal, whip out your dick, say "Hi, Bob, how's your day?" and then put half the cookie in your mouth while you attend to your business.
I didn't stay to see if he'd wash the cookies crumbs off his hands. History has proven that he would't.
I work with some classy people.
April 1, 2004
Seems like months have gone by since we were in Belize, but it's really only been a few weeks. Finally got the pictures put together.
First time playing with the Elph underwater, so they're not the best, but it certainly was a good time.
Hi Dawn, Nice Crack
There's something to be said for getting up really early and being at work at the crack of dawn for these ungodly early-morning confernece calls. There's a zen-like stillness in the office. Nobody's around. The phone's not ringing. E-mails aren't pouring in. Once the call is over I can focus on the tasks at hand and get a good deal done long before most people's day begins. Excepting, of course, those pesky Europeans.