molly, in my wallet

dear service, live from london, the rent boys turn, check —

molly once said that my best feature was my legs. i always took that as an insult, but being the closing of summer, with color, the legs do look pretty good. i think my best feature is my face and eyes (which helps with a slouched over dad bod). molly had beautiful eyes (see above or below), this is her at her wedding, that i did not attend.

i have almost finished "gay bar" for class tomorrow. it's such a great read, and happily starts with: "it's starting to smell like penis here." it makes clear, by subtext, by the various bar scenes that mostly run together, even across the pond, that it's easier to do it in pairs. my early gay bar experience was in grad school, where I attended the friday and saturday and sunday night drag shows at "muther's" — the most venerable and hopeful of the gay bars in my chosen city. i had sex there once: when i asked for my coat to leave, one of the coat check boys grabbed me by the collar (not unlike wide face cock block girl in the scene in allston) and pushed me into him. i was def taken by surprise, and we went back to the dressing room and blew each other. it was fun. luckily no jizz on the jacket.

tomorrow is a class day, i'll finish the reading tonight, i'll have to do the queer lingo handout, which is simple but requires no effort, even from a lazy old queen like me. a student asked me why i eventually left my soulful queen of my 20s, and in response I could only admit that it had been exhausting, and that i was an exhausted old queen, normal now, a regular bore, not visible except for the occasional dandyish or pimpish piece (e.g., my max pink headphones, which i look sort of silly in). i've decided that the class without boys is beautiful, and young queer fem boys (the kind i like) would just dirty the classroom with their cliqueee presence. cliques are annoying from the outside, but of course spectacular from inside. again: that's a latent thesis of the book, "gay bar": it's easier as a pair. i felt that fleeting sense of loss once on grindr, just on chat once, chatting with another man, out of sheer isolation. it only takes the addition of one. try me.

tomorrow i will go in early to my undisclosed location (atl) so as to get to thinking cup early, for the barista parade. one thing you can say about baristas: they place exhibitionism at the top. they'd make excellent porn stars or hustlers. i only stuck with my barista job for my spectacular presence as object, gazing at subject occasionally, and only quit when i recognized that cute boys were few and far between. A person like me was raised to be a barista (and was at a local while in grad school), also at the time a semi-professional actor, but i have settled from the voyeuristic lifestyle cruising, except in class when i am on display for hours. i dress better on mondays and wednesdays — and i dressed well every day of the week when i was teaching full-time at berklee. the summer is usually a fashion disaster, everybody looks ridiculous in shorts and short sleeves, though i do get to exhibit my juicy legs to the public when june comes around each year.

a few of the kids (students) over the several years have haunted this website. i'm not sure how they found it, as it does not come up on a google search. i'm sure if they had teased the site to the chair of the department that i would be fired, six ways since sunday. but no one has turned me in. and it's very nice (responsible, experienced) of those kids to keep it to themselves.

i believe comcast is down, i will have to talk to (listen to) that bitch again.

i bought a six-pack of rolling rock. i don't drink anymore, but someone recently made fun of me that i didn't have "a beer in the fridge." who says that? quickly showed him the door.

one annoying thing: since restarting the fact sheet, i can't see that anyone has in fact read the new entries. i suppose i'm speaking here into the atmosphere, but i oblige the public: don't ghost me.

dr pink in the east — andy phd