Welcome to my happily ever after...

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Houston in the news

I see according to this link, they have put Andrea Yates on suicide watch. In case you don't know who she is, she's that bitch here in Houston that killed her 4 kids by drowning them in the bathtub. I think they should just do us a favor and let the cunt kill herself. Our tax money could go to a lot better use than giving her free room and board for the rest of her life while she "repents" for her sins in prison.

I expect to get a ton of emails from people saying "but you don't understand what post natal depression is like!". I really don't give a fuck. Apparently she didn't understand what maternal instinct was like either. Granted, I may not know what it's like to be a woman, but quite frankly, I'm a gay man. I'm probably a hell of a lot more hormonal, and you haven't seen me kill anyone. Yet.

It's funny how many sensational type stories take place in Houston. Another example is Clara Harris, that woman who found out her husband was having an affair so she ran over him about 12 times with her Mercedes. Or the Anna Nicole trial where they were trying to take away the millions she inherited from her 3490854308 year old husband. There's always something strange going on at the Houston downtown courtroom.

When I worked at my last job downtown, Arthur Andersen was in our building. In case you don't know, they were the company that got in so much trouble for helping cover up the Enron thing (which also took place here). When I'd leave work to go home, there'd be like 100 TV cameras sitting there waiting for someone "important" to come out. I liked to pretend it was my papparazzi. I always wanted to walk out and say "no pictures, please!" like I was Zsa Zsa or something.

I just got back from the gym. I have a new stalker there I have dubbed "Mr. Peepers" because every time I turn around, he's peeping at me. If he worked out as much as he looks around at everyone, he's be rather buff. Semper Fi was there today (since BH asked about him), and when I mentioned Mr. Peepers, Semper said he did the same thing to him.

I didn't go out to dinner last night with Hot Legs and his new man. I just didn't feel like it. There are so many things here in Houston that gay guys do just because it's the "gay" thing to do. Case in point, Cafe Adobe on Monday night. Dinner and drinks at Mo Mong on Wednesday nights. Sunday brunch at La Strada (before it burned to the ground). I avoid those things like the plague, and in fact when Carlos suggests having dinner in Montrose, the gay part of town, I usually try to suggest something else. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete homophobe....I just get "gayed out" rather easily.

Also something that I don't talk about very often because I know it sounds horrible: I get really embarrassed when I'm around other gay guys and they act really effeminate in public. I swear that Mario fucking vogues when we're out at the movies or something, and I just want to crawl in a hole when he acts like that. When we went to see Road to Perdition, I shit you not, he screamed at one point in the movie when it scared him. And it sounded like a freaking woman. I slinked down in my chair out of complete and utter, utter embarrassment.

I mean, Road to Perdition was not a scary movie. MMMKAY?

I don't know why I get so embarrassed over things like that.

Also, when we'd go somewhere with Mario and his boyfriend, they'd hold hands or kiss just right out in front of everyone. In the mall. In a restaurant. At fucking Best Buy. And every time, I wanted to die. I wanted to fucking shrivel up and hide in my shoe.

I'm not sure why that is. I'm not embarrassed to be gay. I just pride myself for the most part on not being overtly homosexual. I tend to think of myself of a straight looking gay guy that just happens to love to suck dick.

Now that I'm sure I have pissed off both woman and gay men, I think I shall conclude this entry.

THE END

12:47 p.m. - 2003-10-14

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