The word of the day is hinky. I’ve used it three times today, in different contexts, with different meanings. I’m sure it has and actual meaning, but it’s just too much fun to say to bother with all that.
Tonight I made dinner! Notice I didn’t say “cooked.” Mostly I just wrapped potatoes in foil and made a buttery mess of myself and the kitchen. Mmmm, butter. Yes, perhaps I should continue to live off K’s cooking and not try and poison her with mine.
My back hurts. I need a house boy to take care of such things. Or a masseur boyfriend. Or better yet a hot, independently wealthy, tattoo artist, masseur boyfriend. Perfect. No maybe that’s asking too much. How about someone who is nice to me, actually likes me and is hot and interesting. God, how sad the years have beaten down my hopes. Maybe I’ll just stick with the heterosexual life partner thing with K for a while. God what is wrong with me? The whole boy thing apparently makes me emotionally unstable. You’d think I was all romantic and pathetic and such and not just looking to get lucky.
How about we just go with my insanity and I’ll tell you dream from the other night? Deal? Okay.
So in the dream I was walking along past this gay club, that was like floating on the water and I was on a pier above looking down and I was thinking, it’s good they don’t just fuck there like they did in the 70s, ’cause then everyone could see, but then when I passed they were all fucking like right out in the open, crazy roman orgy style. I tried not to stare, then I got closer to home and there was this other club with a patio full of flaming queens talking about who was going to be their dates for some elaborate Boston St. Patrick’s day parade but completely Fire Island gay kind of thing. Then I was almost home and this kid came running up and I knew him but I hadn’t seen him in a while. He was like some kid who used to do yard work for me and K or something weird, but in the dream, it’d been maybe a couple years since I’d seen him and he was older now. He sort of snuck up behind me and put his arm around my waist and scared the shit out of me until I realized who he was. Then he offered to walk me home. I remember thinking how fucked up it was going to be to tell K that now that he was of age I totally wanted to fuck him. For some reason we stopped by his place and his dad came home and it was awkward so I was just going to sneak off but his dad came out and was like, “Here, you can each smoke 2 cigarettes, then your friend needs to leave.” And he handed the kid 4 smokes. But we didn’t stay in the yard, instead wandered off and we were going through the city and there were all these revolutionary protests and weirdness all over the city. Then I was alone and it was dark and I was on a high building and I saw some people commit a crime, though I’m not sure what exactly, and dive into the water. Later I saw them come out on the other side of the water with the kid and I went down to try and help him, but we got caught in a dead end and the lead bad guy turned out to be the kid’s older brother and I was trying to reason with him (he was like an IRA leader type and maybe I wasn’t trying to reason with him so much as trying to figure out how to sex him up, since of course in my memory he looked like Justin Hartley) and I asked the kid for one of the cigarettes from his dad and I lit it and the bad guy brother was like, “what the fuck’s wrong with your cigarette?” And I looked at it and it was sparking green and I threw it and it landed on the brother’s jacket and exploded. I was freaking out, “Your dad gave me that! I didn’t know.” And the terrorist guy seemed to believe me, but he grabbed me and the his brother and dragged us away so we wouldn’t be found there when people came to investigate the explosion. Then I woke up. There was of course more to it than that but the details always seem to evaporate so fast when I wake up.
What’s new, pussycats? Tell me something good.
K, just gave me the beer she opened for herself. Man, that’s better than a shirt off the back.