sharon's camaro

andy pinkster, chicago, illinois —

i had a lovely time with dave today, he came by, we walked over to chris's starbuck, such a nice, welcoming environment, and it does seem as if patrick's brown faced gf does not work there; she is a dear, and was a sweet to recognize me at coolidge corner at the screening of the trans film, but lately she's turned crabby and even downright moody. but i suppose it is difficult to be brown faced in a marshmallow world, my love.

dave is of such sound character. he likes to read things in order, not in haste, and he takes seriously a dictum of my work: you must read the text.

the pizza from nat's was ok, i don't eat pizza, can't remember the last time i ate pizza, and was surprised by how lush and florid it tasted, with bushes and trees, and the veggies of a garden undone by the cold winter's night and the blooming days of diarrhea and other unmentionables that come from a toxic dose of lithium.

went out to the bee with my mom this morning, ate bread there, too, and then came home to my 18 packs of cigarettes — reminds me of lori during her go at it, with sharon in the back of the camaro — and it reminded me of how much i miss smoking parliaments (now with newports, and the thugs and queens and other desideratum) but also it reminded me of: how much i miss lori. i don't know how to explain the latest turn of events in the patrick situation to michael, reni's ex-husband, but i am assured that he will make his way to the website in good time with a happy smile. i think — end in analysis — that patrick is a tortured soul and — perhaps, wouldn't bet the barn on it in kansas, however — that he may no longer be worthy of my own effort to kill him off, slowly and with a tourniquet. i should say — when was the last time you read 'tourniquet' on a fact sheet post? — even in blog format?

this is all by way of saying, to come to my point: i am very happy with dave and his work and i miss lori and her cackle. i'll try to call her later — but in the meantime: would it be gauche — same goes for: 'gauche' — would it be to inquire into the size of patrick's penis? he is so tall — 6'2 i would think — is it possible that he has a nub for a knob?

the gay class did not see the video — 'priscilla queen of the desert' — that i had instructed the admin assistant to screen in my absence, and so monday — back to back, on whack — i will screen it for them, a week late. it's such a great flick — can you — i mean all of you, the return rate on this site is now 70%, nearly — i mean all of you, can you imagine patrick in tights? i'm going to wager that he has only a few hairs on his legs, if only because i think he's still on the high school swim team and they are forced to shave for the chlorinated waters — but can you imagine? — i can't imagine: patrick in tights. he must be a terrible dancer, yet i see him excelling at the balleto — that's italian, for those who are only familiar with tall, grande, and venti — those, in other words, uninterested in most of life and language.

i also want to clear up an internet rumor that tmz has picked up: i am not shaved.

till the sun departs and i make my way past the window of patrick's starbucks on commonwealth avenue in allston, 02134 —

and to think the brown nosed bust — she is a statuette and loyal — didn't want my advice. i would say for shame — but isn't there enough of that to go around?

andy pink